NICKED 


LLER 


The 

RING-NECKED 
GRIZZLY 


By  WARREN  H.  MILLER 

MEDICINE  GOLD 

RED   MESA 

THE  BLACK  PANTHER  OF  THE  NAVAHO 
THE  RING  NECKED  GRIZZLY 


THE   INDIAN    SPRANG   UPON    HIM    LIKE    A    PANTHER. 


FPAGE   189] 


The 

RING-NECKED 
GRIZZLY 


BY 

WARREN  H.  MILLER 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  BOYS'  BOOK  OF  HUNTING  AND 

FISHING,"  "CANOEING,  SAILING  AND 

MOTOR  BOATING,"  ETC. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

1924 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY 
B.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

Copyright,   1919,    1920,   by 
THE   CUBTIS   PUBLISHING   OOMPAlfT 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATKS   OF    AMBRICA 


CONTENTS 

OHAPTBB  PAQB 

I  THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN i 

II  FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 17 

III  OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 38 

IV  A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 58 

V  THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 77 

VI  THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 92 

VII  ESCAPE 115 

VIII  CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 130 

IX  MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 148 

X  THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK        164 

XI  THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 181 

XII  A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 196 

XIII  SNOW-BLIND 208 

XIV  OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 226 

XV  HOME  AGAIN  .    .  235 


M535385 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

DOWN  a  dark  hallway  in  Major  Colvin's 
house,  two  high  school  boys  crept  softly, 
trying  to  suppress  snorts  of  merriment, 
and  breathing  thickly  as  they  paused  before  a  small 
door,  made  of  rough-hewn  oak  boards,  with  a  latch- 
string  of  rawhide,  terminated  by  a  bear  tooth,  dan- 
gling from  a  hole  in  the  left-hand  board.     From 
within  came  the  blows  of  a  camp  ax,  and  the  mut- 
tered grunt  of  men's  deep  voices. 

"  They're  unpackin'  'em,  Scotty,"  whispered  the 
older  and  taller  of  the  two  boys.  "  We  just  gotta 
horn  in  on  this !  " 

He  rapped  on  the  door —  Tap-tap-tap!  — 
Tap! 

"That's  my  private  signal  with  father,"  he  ex- 
plained. "  I  can  make  it  with  a  repeating  rifle,  or  a 

i 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

whistle  —  with  any  old  thing  —  but  it  means  me! " 
"  Come  in !  "  roared  a  gruff  voice  inside. 
He  pulled  the  latch-string,  and  the  wooden  latch 
inside  clicked  as  the  door  swung  slowly  open  and 
the  two  boys  bulked  in  through  the  tiny  doorway. 
Inside,  the  light  of  a  huge  log  fire  glowed  on  the  log 
walls  of  what  might  have  been  a  western  log  cabin, 
with  its  peeled  logs  chinked  with  brown  mortar. 
Game  heads  hung  on  the  walls ;  photos  of  hunting 
scenes,  old  rifles  and  pistols,  snow-shoes,  lariats,  and 
pack  baskets  adorned  the  wall  spaces,  while  cow- 
man saddles  hung  on  wooden  pegs.  The  furniture 
was  of  roots  and  stumps,  ax-hewn,  and  the  table 
was  of  cedar  logs  squared  and  polished,  while  on  the 
floors  lay  rugs  of  black  bear,  elk,  and  catamount. 
The  boys  always  loved  this  room,  and  generally 
came  here  evenings  to  clean  rifles,  reload  shells  and 
overhaul  their  camp  outfits  and  fishing  tackle.  So 
intense  was  the  old  Indian  fighter's  love  of  the 
prairies  of  his  own  boyhood  that,  after  retirement 
from  active  duty,  Major  Colvin  had  built  this  room 
into  his  handsome  town  house  and  furnished  it  in 
exact  replica  of  the  lonely  log  cabin  in  the  Wyoming 
bad  lands  that  had  been  the  home  of  his  youth. 
"  Just  couldn't  keep  you  out ,  eh  —  you  young 

2 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

scoundrels ! "  rumbled  the  major  jovially,  looking 
up  from  the  crate  of  a  mountain  sheep's  head,  which 
had  just  come  from  the  taxidermist's. 

"  Oh,  aye,  mon  —  and  here's  my  young  rooster, 
too !  "  chortled  a  grizzled  old  Scotchman,  who  was 
helping  him  with  the  crate.  "  It's  in  the  blood,  I  tell 
ye!" 

The  two  boys  grinned  and  said  nothing.  The 
older,  Sid  Colvin,  was  tall  and  dark,  black-eyed,  and 
at  present  very  lanky;  too  lanky,  in  fact,  for  he 
was  just  getting  over  a  case  of  typhoid  fever  that 
he  had  accumulated  on  a  canoe  trip  which  he  and 
his  chum  had  taken  that  summer,  and  during  which 
they  had  drunk  incautiously  of  river  water.  The 
younger  boy,  "  Scotty  "  Henderson,  son  of  the  old 
Scotch  doctor,  was  slender  and  wiry,  with  red  'hair 
and  keen,  blue  eyes.  Nervous  and  under-developed, 
he  looked  tired  and  run-down  —  just  the  kind  of 
boy  whose  Scotch  persistence  would  drive  him  so 
hard  in  play  and  study  as  to  run  all  the  flesh  off  his 
bones. 

Both  boys  pitched  eagerly  at  the  trophies  and  be- 
gan to  help  unpack,  wild  to  see  what  they  looked  like. 
Hurriedly  the  brown  paper  coverings  were  torn  off 
the  ram's  head,  as  the  last  bars  of  the  crate  came  off. 

3 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"Jiminy,  father!  That  was  some  ram  you  got 
out  in  Big  Badger  this  trip !  "  exclaimed  Sid,  eyeing 
the  magnificent  head  with  glistening  eyes. 

"  Forty-two-inch  curl,  nineteen-inch  base,  son," 
rumbled  the  major,  grimly.  "  Your  old  dad  had 
to  crawl  down  through  two  thousand  feet  of  slide 
rock  after  hhn  too!  " 

"Wait  till  you  see  father's  grizzly!"  retorted 
Scotty,  frantically  untying  the  thongs  of  a  huge, 
brown-paper  package. 

"  Aye,  mon  —  you's  a  pretty  beastie !  "  grinned 
Doctor  Henderson,  seating  himself  beside  Major 
Colvin  on  an  oak  bench,  as  they  watched  the  young- 
sters working  feverishly.  "  We  left  the  twa  coobs 
to  grow  up  for  you  boys  to  shoot/' 

"  Wish'd  we'd  got  the  old  boar,  too,"  grunted  the 
major,  his  pipe  in  his  teeth.  "  Boys,  we  saw  his 
track  once  —  gad,  what  a  track !  —  fourteen  inches 
it  was;  but  there  was  two  days'  fall  of  drift  snow  in 
them.  Came  down  the  mountain  side  like  a  bale  of 
hay,  he  did;  left  a  trough  four  feet  wide  in  the 
snow,  and  those  great  pugs  like  post  holes  markin' 
it !  Some  old  he-one ! 

"  The  Indians  of  Big  River  call  that  bear  '  The 
Ring-Necked  Grizzly/  because  he's  got  a  white  collar 

4 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

under  his  throat.     Few  of  them  have  even  seen 
him/' 

"  Gosh !  "  exclaimed  both  the  boys,  with  staring 
eyes.  They  looked  at  each  other  with  the  old  hunt- 
ing fever  mounting  in  their  veins.  Gee!  This 
would  be  grand  sport,  compared  to  the  tame  joys 
of  canoeing  and  grouse  shooting  in  the  hills ! 

"  Well,  here's  his  mate,  anyhow ! "  declared 
Scotty,  doggedly,  unrolling  the  doctor's  grizzly 
skin. 

The  huge  brown  robe  spread  out  on  the  floor  of 
the  den,  lapping  over  catamount  skins  and  glossy 
black  bear  rugs  as  if  they  had  been  shepherd-dog 
pelts. 

"  Aye,  mon, —  eight  feet  two  was  yon  old  beast !  " 
purred  the  doctor,  eyeing  the  brown  fur  proudly. 
"  She  an'  her  twa  coobs  got  into  lodgepole  pine  so 
thick  that  a  mon  couldna  turrn  nor  see  in  it,  an'  me 
in  after  her !  —  with  your  father  circlin*  roond  out- 
side in  case  they  came  out.  Then  she  coom  at  me, 
an'  I  stoppit  her  with  a  peel  from  yon  old  .405." 
he  added,  waving  his  hand  at  the  blue  barrel  of  the 
big  Winchester,  standing  in  a  row  of  rifles  and  shot- 
guns behind  the  glass  front  of  a  gun  cabinet  on 
the  wall. 

5 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  Gosh !  "  came  the  boys  again  —  wouldn't  they 
have  given  their  shoes  to  be  there ! 

The  two  older  men  puffed  on  reminiscently,  as 
the  boys  attacked  a  large  crate  standing  in  a  corner. 
It  was  over  six  feet  square,  and  the  stout  palings 
took  a  lot  of  prying  and  hauling  out  of  nails  before 
they  would  come  off. 

"Here's  the  elk,  Scotty!"  cried  Sid  excitedly, 
"  all  three  of  them  were  in  on  this !  " 

"  Yep.  And  Big  John  downed  him !  "  laughed 
the  major  over  his  pipe.  "  Reminded  me  of  the 
battle  of  Medicine  Arrow,  the  way  that  old  elk 
bounded  through  the  timber,  with  us  all  firing  at  him 
like  an  Indian  a-horseback.  I  plugged  him  with  the 
.35  —  aimed  square  at  the  brisket,  but  he  went  so 
fast  the  bullet  hit  him  in  the  haunch  and  spun  him 
round  —  and  then  the  doctor  got  in  a  poke  through 
the  spruces,  and  got  kicked  off  an  alder-root  into 
four  feet  of  snow, —  and  then  he  came  right  for 
Big  John,  who  broke  his  neck  at  about  thirty  feet 
with  that  old  meat  gun  of  his  —  and  there  he  is !  — 
Had  to  walk  out  forty-five  miles  through  the  snow 
to  pack  out  all  that  meat  on  our  saddle  horses, — 
with  no  webs,  too ! "  he  groaned  whimsically,  rub- 
bing the  old  twitches  out  of  his  legs. 

6 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

The  boys  tore  off  the  paper  wrappings,  and  the 
great,  seven-point  antlers  of  a  huge  bull  elk  glis- 
tened in  the  firelight. 

"Oh,  boy!"  breathed  Sid,  as  they  stood  and 
adored  him  openly.  "Some  day!  —  eh,  Scotty!" 

The  major's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  looked  over  his 
tall  son,  approvingly.  "A  .35  would  kick  you  into 
kingdom  come,  now,  you  young  hatrack!"  he 
growled.  "  And  you  don't  want  any  lady's  guns  in 
that  he-man's  country,  either !  " 

"You  wait,  father !"  said  Sid.  "Some  day, 
Scotty  and  I  are  going  out  there  and  hog-tie  your 
ring-necked  grizzly  to  a  tree !  And  I  can  stand  the 
kick  of  a  .35  as  well  as  any  one  —  it's  no  worse 
than  a  twelve  bore  shotgun." 

"You  know,  because  you've  tried  it,  eh,  you 
young  demon!  "  accused  the  old  major.  "  Had  my 
.35  out  somewhere?  " 

Sid  grinned  sheepishly,  and  a  guiky  look  stole 
over  Scotty's  face  also.  "Well, —  we  cleaned  'em 
well,  anyhow !  "  they  laughed  back  at  the  stern  eyes 
bent  on  them. 

Doctor  Henderson  chuckled  at  the  major.  "  The 
yoong  roosters!  Mon,  dear,  we'll  aye  be  lookin* 
sharp  to  our  laurels,  soon,  Ah'm  thinkin'." 

7 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

A  knock  came  on  the  oak  door  and  the  wooden 
latch  rose.  Mrs.  Colvin  poked  in  her  head  and 
sniffed  at  the  fog  of  tobacco  smoke.  "  Here's  a 
letter  from  Montana,  dear/'  she  said.  "  I  brought 
it  right  in,  as  it  must  be  from  Big  John." 

"  Won't  you  come  in,  pal  ?  "  asked  the  major, 
gallantly,  holding  wide  the  door  for  her  to  enter. 

"  Oooo-oo  —  looky !  "  breathed  Mrs.  Colvin. 
"  Aren't  those  heads  fine !  No ;  I'll  wait  till  you  get 
them  hung, —  and  the  smoke  isn't  quite  so  thick," 
she  choked  —  "  Good  evening,  Doctor  Hender- 
son !  "  she  bowed,  backing  out  and  closing  the  door. 

The  major  opened  the  letter,  and  a  bunch  of 
photos  fell  out  The  first  one  was  of  a  big  timber 
wolf,  his  paw  in  a  trap  and  the  snow  all  around 
him  trampled  with  his  tracks. 

"  Snow  already,  by  gum !  "  muttered  the  major. 
"  Look,  doc,  don't  it  make  you  homesick  ?  " 

The  boys  peered  over  their  shoulders  at  the  grim 
face  and  squinting  eyes  of  the  lone  timber  wolf. 
The  wild  mountain  side  surrounding  the  trap  stake, 
the  sweep  of  smooth,  untroubled  snow  under  the 
spruces,  the  flecks  of  sunlight  on  the  snow  in' be- 
tween the  tree  shadows,  all  tugged  at  their  hearts 
like  the  call  of  the  red  gods. 

8 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

"  Let's  go ! "  burst  out  Sid,  looking  laughingly 
at  Scotty,  as  if  toying  with  an  idle  dream. 

The  major  closed  the  letter  and  eyed  Doctor  Hen- 
derson, with  a  quizzical  smile  shining  through  his 
half-closed  lids. 

"  Doc,"  he  said,  "  what's  the  best  cure  for  a  long, 
skinny  lad,  just  building  up  after  typhoid?  And 
for  another  one  who  studies  so  hard  he  cannot  sleep 
o'  nights?" 

"Wark!"  roared  the  grizzled  old  Scotchman, 
"  mickle  wark,  in  the  outdoors ;  plenty  oj  man's 
food  —  and,  no  skule!  Hae  ye  ever  hear  o'  the 
Sabbatical  year,  major,  dear?  "  he  inquired,  as  both 
of  them  grinned  at  the  amazed  boys. 

"  Well,  this  is  going  to  be  a  Sabbatical  year  —  for 
both  of  them,"  declared  the  major.  "  It's  late  in 
October,  now,  and  I  have  not  dared  send  my  boy 
to  school  yet,  and  yours,  doc,  isn't  taking  to  the 
harness  this  year  any  too  kindly.  What  say  for  a 
term  off  for  them  both  —  with  Big  John?  " 

"  Wow !  —  Whoopee! "  —  speechless  with  joy, 
the  two  boys  fell  on  each  other's  necks  and  capered 
about  the  trophy  den.  "  Do  you  really  mean  it, 
father  ?  "  begged  Sid,  happily. 

"  Looks  good  to  me!  "  grunted  the  major.     "  Big 

9 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

John,  here,  writes  that  the  sports  are  all  gone  out  of 
the  mountains,  and  so  he's  going  into  the  Big  River 
country  after  winter  meat.  He  wants  the  doctor 
and  me  to  go  along.  Confound  him,  anyhow,  of 
course  we  do!  —  but  we've  only  just  got  back!  If 
your  mothers  are  willing,  I'm  strong  for  sending 
you  two  boys.  A  few  months  out  there,  say  until 
late  in  December,  Sid,  would  put  flesh  on  you  like  a 
steer ;  and  it  would  make  a  he-man  of  Scotty.  He's 
too  much  on-edge,  just  now,  to  suit  me.  What  say, 
doc?" 

The  veteran  doctor  knotted  his  shaggy  brows  and 
pondered  over  it  with  true  Scotch  deliberation. 

"Weel;  it  might  be  a  verra  good  thing  —  and 
then  it  might  not,"  he  ventured,  cautiously.  "  Les- 
ter will  lose  a  tarm  at  school ;  but  then,  he's  a  year 
too  yoong  for  his  class,  anyhow.  Weel  —  Ah'll  no 
say  no,"  he  conceded. 

"It's  the  ladies  — God  bless  'em  — that'll  have 
to  decide,"  said  the  major,  heartily.  "  But  there 
can  be  no  harm  in  laying  out  your  outfits,  any  way." 

The  boys  dashed  for  the  closet  of  war  togs  at  one 
end  of  the  den  as  he  spoke.  In  their  minds  it  was 
as  good  as  settled  already !  Out  of  the  closet  they 
'dragged  tents,  duffle  bags,  cook  kits,  hunting  boots, 

10 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

camp  axes  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  the  trail. 
The  elders  sat  down  and  watched  them  delightedly 
—  it  was  good  enough  just  to  see  the  dear  old  out- 
door togs  once  more!  Soon  quite  a  pile  had  ac- 
cumulated on  the  floor.  Some  of  it  was  the  major's 
or  the  doctor's;  a  good  deal  belonged  to  the  boys, 
collected  from  their  own  camping  and  hunting  trips 
around  home. 

"  To  begin  with/'  grunted  the  major  from  be- 
hind his  pipe,  "  we'll  have  to  lend  you  our  fur  sleep- 
ing bags.  It's  not  very  cold  out  there  yet,  but  it 
always  goes  below  freezing,  and  the  snow  is  deep 
by  October  twentieth  —  which  is  right  now  —  so 
you  can  put  back  that  mess  of  camp  blankets." 

"  Aye !  "  rumbled  the  doctor,  approvingly,  "  an* 
ye'll  take  yon  little  poop  tent,  Les,  lad;  'tis  verra 
handy  on  an  outlyin'  trail  from  the  base  camp,  and 
it'll  sleep  the  twa  of  ye." 

The  boys  set  aside  the  two  sleeping  bags  of  Arctic 
fox  fur  and  a  light,  three-pound  wedge  tent  of 
paraffined  muslin. 

"  One  duffle  bag  each,  men,"  twinkled  the  major. 
"  Now  le's  see  what  you  put  in  them." 

There  was  a  mad  scramble  for  socks,  mitts, 
toques,  sweaters,  ponchos,  a  brown  feather  pillow 

ii 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

each ;  carbide  lanterns,  leather  tackle  bags,  fly  boxes, 
reels,  cameras,  films,  medicine  kits,  mess  kits  and 
cans  of  boot  grease,  and,  in  an  incredibly  short  time, 
the  brown  paraffined  duck  duffle  bags  stood  filled, 
and  their  necks  ready  to  be  closed  with  the  pucker 
strings. 

"  Och  —  th'  yoong  goshawks !  "  chuckled  the  doc- 
tor. "  They  know  the  game  almost  as  well  as  we 
do,  major! " 

The  latter  inspected  the  kits  critically.  "Not 
near  enough  socks,  boys,"  he  objected;  "you  need 
at  least  six  pairs  each.  No  blue  glasses.  What'll 
you  do  if  you  go  snow  blind?  No  repair  kits  — 
what  are  you  going  to  take  rifles  and  reels  apart 
with?  No  sharpening  stones  —  suppose  your 
knives  and  axes  are  going  to  stay  sharp  ?  No  clean- 
ing kits  —  rifles  get  dirty,  boys!  No  extra  screw 
calks,  and  no  wrench  to  put  any  in  with, —  do  you 
suppose  you're  going  to  hunt  long  before  the  calks 
in  your  hunting  boots  wear  out?  And  no  camp 
moccasins  —  what  are  you  going  to  put  on  your 
feet  when  you  come  in  after  the  day's  hunt?  And, 
I'd  take  out  those  sweaters,  for  we'll  get  you  stag 
shirts  to  take  their  place.  Sweaters  are  too  bulky 
and  too  warm  in  the  daytime.  We'll  get  you  a  pair 

12 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

of  sheep  fleece-lined  canvas  coats  with  high  collars 
for  bad  weather,  and  for  hats  you  have  your  Stet- 
sons, which  cannot  be  beat  for  keeping  snow  out 
of  your  neck,  to  my  way  of  thinking.  Now,  for 
rifles  — " 

But  Sid  had  already  beaten  him  to  the  gun  cabi- 
net and  had  pulled  out  the  heavy  .35  Model  '95. 
"Please,  dad!  "he  begged. 

"  You  might  as  well,  I  suppose  —  so  that  if  you 
really  hit  anything  with  it,  it'll  stay  hit !  That  rifle's 
your  daddy's  best  bet,  son,  so  be  good  to  it.  Your 
own  .32-20  six-shooter  will  do  for  a  sidearm,  for 
fool  hens." 

Scotty  had  more  trouble  with  his  iron-mongery. 
It  was  decided,  right  off,  that  he  was  too  light  for 
the  .405,  and  they  finally  settled  on  a  Model  '95 
carbine,  shooting  the  Springfield  .30  army  cartridge. 
But,  for  a  side-arm  the  boy  clung  to  a  long-barreled 
.38,  with  its  husky  young  cartridge.  "  I  want  some- 
thing that'll  be  right  there  when  I  need  it  bad,  father 
—  please !  "  he  teased. 

"  Ye'll  need  nawthin'  bad,  laddie, —  an'  ye'll  blow 
a  groose  all  to  bits  with  yon  cannon ! "  the  doctor 
grumbled, —  but  Scotty  held  on  to  it  just  the  same ! 

Sixty  rifle  and  a  hundred  pistol  cartridges  were 

13 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

then  served  out  from  the  ammunition  chest,  and 
stowed  away  in  the  stout  canvas  ammunition  bags 
for  each  boy's  kit.  Then  compasses,  hunting  knives, 
snowshoes,  belt  axes,  sharpening  stones  and  rifle 
cleaning  kits  were  selected  and  stood  over  by  each 
boy's  pile. 

"  A  light  shotgun  and  a  three- joint  fishing  rod 
each  will  do  to  use  around  the  ranch/'  mused  the 
major,  looking  over  the  growing  pile.  "  There's 
lots  of  duck  shooting  on  the  prairie,  and  Big  Bad- 
ger's full  of  trout.  And  then  you'll  have  to  have 
saddle  scabbards  for  the  rifles.  Big  John  will  pro- 
vide the  horse-gear,  and  all  the  outfit  for  the  main 
tent." 

Such  tinkering  and  mending  of  camp-gear  as  fol- 
lowed !  Such  discussions  and  arguments  over  every 
last  item  of  outfit !  It  was  late  that  night  before  the 
boys  finally  separated,  to  dream  of  elk  and  cowmen, 
of  mountains  that  towered  ten  thousand  feet  to  the 
skies  and  prairies  that  reached  sixty  miles  to  the 
hills  on  the  far  horizon. 

The  week  that  followed  was  a  delirium  of  joy 
to  the  two  youths.  Sid  ate  like  a  horse  and  was 
fast  regaining  his  strength,  but  was  still  lanky  and 
short-winded,  while  Scotty  began  to  pick  up  in 

14 


THE  COLVIN  TROPHY  DEN 

health  immediately,  once  the  grind  of  school  was 
lifted. 

The  mothers  were  at  length  won  over  to  the 
scheme  of  three  months  with  Big  John  in  the  moun- 
tains. And,  one  day,  both  boys  visited  the  city  out- 
fitter's under  the  major's  guidance,  coming  out 
equipped  with  gaudy  red-and-black  checked  stag 
shirts  and  brown  canvas  coats  with  the  white  fleece 
wool  showing  around  the  high  collars.  There  was 
little  else  to  buy  that  the  warlike  den  had  not  already 
provided,  except  socks.  An  incredible  number  of 
these, —  white,  gray,  and  noisy  blue  and  white,  were 
stuffed  into  the  duffle  bags,  until  the  major  was 
satisfied.  Then  the  mothers  butted  in,  with  soap, 
towels,  sewing  kits,  toothbrushes  and  other  wholly 
unnecessary  articles. 

Finally,  loaded  down  with  plunder,  they  stood 
on  the  station  platform  awaiting  the  transcontinen- 
tal limited,  with  a  group  of  anxious  parents  and 
envious  comrades  seeing  them  off. 

"  Here  she  comes !  Le's  go !  "  whooped  Sid,  as 
the  big  express  engine  came  around  the  bend.  They 
were  bundled  into  a  Pullman,  with  a  grinning 
Ethiopian  following,  staggering  under  their  duffle. 
The  major  and  the  doctor  clambered  aboard  for  a 

15 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

last  handshake  and  a  slap  on  the  back.  There  were 
wavings  from  the  window  at  tearful  mothers  —  and 
they  were  off ! 

A  change  of  cars  at  Chicago ;  two  days  along  the 
Mississippi  and  the  low,  gray  bluffs  of  the  Missouri ; 
two  days  across  the  vast  wheatlands  of  Dakota  and 
Montana,  and  —  then  they  tumbled  out  at  Glacier 
Park  station,  to  find  the  white  mountains  surround- 
ing them  in  majestic  grandeur  with  the  snow  reach- 
ing down  their  flanks  and  out  on  the  prairie.  There 
had  been  no  foothills;  the  mountains  rose  up  from 
the  rolling  prairie  land  ahead  of  the  train,  and  the 
sudden  discovery  of  them  all  around  them  at  the 
Park  station  was  stunning  in  its  bewildering  mag- 
nificence. Here  was  the  Promised  Land,  at  last,  for. 
forty-five  miles  southwest  in  those  mountains,  lay 
the  hunting  grounds  of  the  Big  River  country ! 


CHAPTER  II 

FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

THE  boys  looked  around  the  snowy  platform 
curiously,  and  then  up  at  the  mountains 
again.     A    few   Blackfoot   Indians,    some 
railroad  laborers,  and  the  little  cluster  of  houses  and 
stores  about  the  station  were  all  the  life  in  sight 
about  them.     The  tourists  were  all  gone,  and  the 
great  hotels  were  closed. 

"  Hi  there,  stranger !  "  called  a  deep,  vibrant  voice. 

Sid  turned  to  face  a  tall  cowman,  who  came  swing- 
ing down  the  platform.  Hawk-faced,  with  a  huge 
fierce  beak  of  a  nose,  his  black  eyes  twinkled  under 
the  rim  of  a  high-domed  Stetson  as  he  advanced, 
smiling,  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  Yo're  Major  Colvin's  cubs,  I  reckon,  son?  "  he 
inquired  genially.  "  Hev  a  good  trip  out  ?  Gimme 
some  o'  them  things,  an'  c'mon  over  to  the  store," 
he  went  on,  grabbing  up  an  incredible  quantity  of 
the  duffle. 

"  You  bet ! "  agreed  Sid  introducing  Scotty. 
"  You're  Big  John,  aren't  you?  " 

17 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  Shore !  Shore !  son,  ain't  so  awful  little,  but 
what  I  got  a  number  ten  foot  and  a  number  two 
haid,"  grinned  the  huge  cowman.  "  Ye  can  change 
into  man's  clothes  over't  th'  sto',  an'  then  we'll  go 
git  th'  hosses." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  boys  stepped  out,  nervously 
and  self-consciously,  in  their  new  stag  shirts,  riding 
breeches  and  high  laced  hunting  boots.  Big  John 
waltzed  up  bowleggedly,  the  sunlight  glinting  on 
the  silver  ornaments  that  ran  down  the  fringe  of  his 
dark  leather  chaps,  his  blue  barreled  Colt  dangling 
in  its  holster  from  the  loose-hung  cartridge  belt. 
He  looked  every  inch  the  cowman,  under  the  boys' 
admiring  glances. 

"Waal;  the  major  knowed  what  he  was 
about !  "  he  observed,  looking  over  their  outfits  criti- 
cally. "  Roll  up  them  fleece  coats,  an'  we'll  sling 
'em  up  on  the  cantles  of  yore  saddles,  and  then  bring 
out  all  yore  duffle  to  th'  coral." 

He  led  the  way  to  a  lodgepole  pine  inclosure, 
filled  with  cayuses.  "  Thet  thar  roan's  yourn,  Sid, 
an*  the  fleabitten  gray's  for  you,  Scotty  —  go  git 
'em,"  ordered  Big  John,  grinning  as  he  passed  them 
each  a  coiled  lariat. 

The  boys  winked  at  each  other  as  they  climbed 
18 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

over  the  corral  gate.  Many  a  time  they  had  prac- 
ticed both  the  lariat  pitch  and  the  throw  at  home, 
and  now  they  could  put  one  over  on  Big  John  I  The 
ponies  crowded  to  one  side  of  the  corral  as  the  two 
boys  advanced,  dragging  long  loops  of  rope  behind 
them  for  a  pitch.  Then  the  horses  broke  and  gal- 
loped, single  file,  past  them,  close  to  the  fence. 

"  Now,  son,  that's  yourn  —  git  her !  "  yelled  Big 
John  from  his  post  on  the  corral  fence.  Sid  jumped 
ahead  and  made  his  pitch.  The  huge  loop  sailed 
through  the  air, —  and  lit  over  the  head  of  a  mettle- 
some black,  missing  the  roan  by  feet!  The  black 
reared  and  plunged,  pawing  the  air  and  bucking  as 
Sid  was  hurled  to  the  ground  and  at  the  same  instant 
Scotty's  loop  landed  over  the  gray  and  he  too  was 
being  yanked  and  thrown  around  the  corral. 

"  Hoi'  'im,  kid !  Come  up  on  him !  "  guffawed 
Big  John.  "  Whoops !" — for,  in  the  melee  of 
plunging  horses,  both  boys  were  being  dragged  and 
man-handled,  and  the  new  stag  shirts  were  getting 
covered  with  mud  and  snow.  The  black  bucked  and 
plunged,  but  Sid  hung  on  grimly. 

"Atta  stuff !"  encouraged  John.  "Wrangle'm 
good,  kid!" 

Sid  jumped  to  his  feet  and  crawled  up  on  the  rope, 
19 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

while  Scotty  sat  sprawling  on  the  snow,  with  his 
mount  snorting  and  kicking  up  his  heels  around  the 
corral,  the  loose  end  of  the  lariat  dangling  after  him. 

"  Ain't  paid  nawthin'  fer  to  see  this  circus,  but 
she  shore's  a  good  one !  "  cackled  Big  John.  "  Pat 
her,  now,  you  Sid  —  and  you,  Scotty,  fall  on  thet 
thar  rope !  "  he  ordered. 

Scotty  made  a  mad  dash,  and  his  animal  reared 
high  in  the  air  with  striking  hoofs.  The  lad  ducked 
and  then  grabbed  the  rope  and  braced.  The  gray 
stood  on  his  forefeet  and  kicked  his  heels  in  the  air, 
to  the  sound  of  yells  of  merriment  from  Big  John, 
but  finally  both  boys  got  their  steeds  quieted  and 
led  them  to  the  corral  gate.  "  I'll  keep  this  black  — 
I  like  him !  "  panted  Sid  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Does  'em  good  to  blow  off  a  leetle  steam," 
snickered  Big  John.  "Yaas,  ye  kin  keep  'im  — 
1'kout  he  don't  run  all  over  the  prairie  with  ye !  Tie 
him  to  thet  hitchin'  rail,  an'  go  git  yore  saddles." 
He  went  into  the  corral  and  cut  out  his  own  mount, 
and  then  four  pack  horses,  while  the  boys  were  get- 
ting on  the  saddles,  bridling  the  gray  and  the  black, 
and  slinging  their  rifle  scabbards  under  the  near-side 
saddle  flaps. 

"  Shore,  ye  ain't  got  thet  there  Nig's  cinch  strap 
20 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

half  tight  enough,  Sid,"  warned  Big  John,  as  Sid 
heaved  up  on  the  black's  saddle  girth.  "  He  puffs 
himself  up  full  o'  wind,  an'  he'll  fool  ye  every 
time!" 

Sid  hauled  away  on  the  cinch  rope  until  the  pony 
bit  and  grunted,  and  then  they  both  helped  Big 
John  with  the  pack  animals.  On  each  went  a  sad- 
dle tree,  over  which  were  hooked  pairs  of  panniers 
full  of  hundreds  of  pounds  of  grub  for  the  coming 
trip,  and  then  the  cowman  showed  the  boys  how  to 
secure  the  panniers  with  the  sling  ropes.  On  top  of 
these  were  piled  their  duffle  bags,  and  then  came  hun- 
dred-pound sacks  of  flour,  corn  meal,  sugar,  hams, 
pork,  rice,  beans,  bacon  flitches  and  general  supplies, 
until  the  boys'  eyes  popped,  as  they  realized  what 
four  months'  grub  supplies  in  the  mountains  means. 
After  balancing  each  load  carefully,  over  each  ani- 
mal's pile  went  a  tarpaulin  covering,  and  then  Big 
John  threw  Sid  and  Scotty  a  cinch  rope. 

"  Yo'  boys  mought  just  as  well  larn  th'  diamond 
hitch,  right  now,  for,  when  we  gits  inter  th'  moun- 
tains, each  man's  got  to  wrangle  his  own  saddle 
hoss  an'  pack  cayuse.  Now,  watch  me  do  this  one." 

First  he  chucked  the  cinch  strap  under  the  horse, 
with  its  hook  coming  out  on  the  far  side.  Then, 

21 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

leaving  about  a  yard  of  rope  on  the  ground  near  the 
nigh  shoulder,  he  threw  a  length  of  it  along  the 
pack,  coming  off  on  the  rear  nigh  side.  Of  the  rest 
of  the  rope  he  made  a  long  loop,  gave  it  a  single 
twist,  and  threw  it  across  the  pack,  catching  the 
end  of  the  loop  in  the  cinch  hook. 

"  Now,  then,  give  her  both  barrels !  "  he  grunted, 
heaving  up  on  the  free  end  of  the  loop  until  the 
pony  kicked  and  bucked  with  the  pressure  of  the 
cinch  strap.  "  That  thar  loop's  got  ter  be  tight  if 
this  pack's  agoin'  to  stay." 

He  reached  up  on  top  of  the  pack  and  pulled  the 
lengthwise  strand  of  rope  out  between  the  two  sides 
of  the  loop,  and,  going  around  the  horse,  he  hauled 
the  bight  of  it  out,  braced  his  foot  against  the  pony's 
flank,  and  heaved  away.  The  rear  strand  of  the 
loop  immediately  spread  out  to  form  half  a  diamond. 
Big  John  caught  the  bight  around  the  pannier,  passed 
it  through  the  cinch  hook  and  around  the  front 
corner  of  the  pannier,  and  then,  diving  under  the 
horse's  neck,  he  heaved  away  on  what  was  left  of 
his  rope,  and  the  front  strand  of  the  loop  spread 
out,  to  make  a  complete  diamond  crossing  over  the 
pack.  Then  he  secured  the  end  of  his  rope  around 
the  nigh  pannier  and  tied  it  securely  into  the 

22 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

cinch  ring, —  and  the  diamond  hitch  was  com- 
pleted. 

"  Thar,  boys,  that's  the  Lone  Jack  Hitch ;  and 
many's  the  time  ye'll  use  it,  fer  it  can  be  thrown 
by  one  man  alone."  It  looked  simple,  and  with  Big 
John  to  stand  by  and  catch  mistakes,  they  each  made 
a  fair  job  with  their  pack  animals.  Then  the 
cavalcade  strung  out  along  the  prairie  trail. 

"Over  the  river!"  yelled  Big  John.  "You, 
Scotty,  head  the  line,  an*  Sid,  you  be  outrider,  while 
I  fetches  up  the  rear  so's  ter  keep  these  blame  pin- 
heads  in  line ! " 

All  the  horses  were  feeling  pretty  good  as  they 
started  off.  For  a  mile  along  the  ridgy,  broken 
foot-hills  of  the  prairies,  all  cut  up  with  coulees  and 
cottonwood  "  draws,"  the  pack  train  nickered  along, 
fording  streams,  sliding  down  cut  banks,  and  pawing 
up  the  grassy  slopes  covered  with  a  light  fall  of 
snow. 

Then  Injun,  one  of  the  pack  cayuses,  started  to 
do  a  little  exploring  on  his  own  hook,  and  after  him 
went  Sid  at  top  speed,  while  Big  John  and  Scotty 
were  roaring  at  Sandy,  another  cayuse  who  was 
trying  to  lie  down  and  roll  on  his  pack. 

Sid's  eyes  sparkled  as  he  streaked  down  a  prairie 

23 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

coulee  after  the  runaway.  The  wild  freedom  of 
this  mountain  life  was  getting  into  his  blood;  he 
wanted  to  yell,  to  race!  —  and  he  whooped  like  a 
wild  man  as  Nig  thundered  down  the  slope,  slid  on 
his  haunches  over  a  sand  bank,  and  leaped  the  creek, 
heading  off  Injun,  who  backed  as  Sid  lashed  him 
with  his  quirt.  The  horse  whirled  perversely,  as 
Sid  snatched  at  his  halter,  and  made  off  down  the 
coulee,  with  Nig  fast  closing  up  on  him.  But,  as 
the  fast  pony  whirled  by,  Injun  slewed  his  head 
again,  so  that  Sid  missed  the  halter  again,  and  the 
runaway  darted  up  a  small  ravine  that  led  out  of 
the  main  coulee. 

In  after  him  went  Nig.  The  place  was  full  of 
cotton  woods  and  spruces,  a  perfect  labyrinth,  out  of 
which  buzzed  sharp-tailed  grouse  of  the  prairie,  but 
Sid  hardly  noticed  them,  so  eager  was  he  to  catch 
that  bucking  and  plunging  cayuse.  Dodging  and 
turning  through  the  draw,  Injun  at  last  attempted 
the  impossible  and  got  wedged  fast  by  his  pack 
between  two  stout  cottonwoods. 

"  There,  darn  you !  "  glared  Sid,  unfastening  the 
end  of  the  halter  and  backing  Nig  away,  "hope 
you're  satisfied !  You  come  out  of  that !  " 

Injun  bucked  and  pranced  at  the  end  of  the  halter, 
24 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

(but  soon  came  along  willingly  enough,  as  Sid  rode 
Nig  up  the  hill  flank  to  get  a  look  out  over  the  coun- 
try, for  he  had  not  the  least  idea  where  he  was.  His 
first  impression  from  that  ridge-top  was  of  the  im- 
mensity of  the  country.  The  whole  prairie  was  cut 
up  with  ravines,  gulleys  and  cottonwood  draws,  all 
of  them  young  Alleghenies  in  size.  Not  a  living 
soul  was  in  sight ;  here  and  there  in  the  far  distances 
were  little  groups  of  black  specks  which  he  knew 
were  the  horse  herds  of  the  Blackfoot  Indians  out  on 
the  Reservation,  but  where  the  border  of  the  Reser- 
vation began  or  ended  he  did  not  know.  The  moun- 
tains looked  strange  and  distant,  and  he  had  not 
noticed  them  particularly  anyhow,  not  with  that 
photographic  minuteness,  sharp  and  clear  in  the 
memory,  with  which  a  mountain  man  always  mem- 
orizes them. 

Big  John  and  the  pack  train  must  be  somewhere 
to  the  west,  he  decided,  and  so  he  set  out  along  the 
ridge  in  that  direction.  The  hog's-back  soon  pitched 
down  into  a  valley,  in  which  was  a  stream,  flowing 
south!  More  than  anything  this  confused  him. 
Sid  thought  that  all  the  streams  in  this  region  flowed 
north  into  Milk  River! 

"Gosh!  —  I'm    lost!"    he    exclaimed,    looking 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

blankly  at  the  stream,  "  already !  —  Darn  that  In* 
jun-horse,  anyhow ! " 

The  stream  was  impassable  with  alders,  and  he 
went  on  for  a  long  distance  along  it  before  he  could 
find  a  crossing.  Finally  he  got  over  and  ascended 
the  steep  hillside,  with  Injun  tugging  rebelliously 
after  him.  Never  before  had  the  scandalized  pack- 
animal  been  led  over  any  such  trail ! 

When  he  reached  the  top,  the  mountains  frowned 
at  him  from  the  east! 

"  This  will  never  do !  "  sighed  Sid  bitterly.  "  I'm 
all  balled  up?  Those  mountains  should  be  to  the 
west  of  me!" 

His  compass  verified  it.  They  were  west,  but  it 
seemed  unbelievable,  so  sure  was  he  that  he  was  go- 
ing east.  For  some  time  he  sat  still  on  the  ridge 
top,  collecting  his  wits,  and  then  started  off  with  no 
particular  idea  of  where  to  go  next,  but  to  keep 
bearing  to  the  west  until  he  should  cut  the  main 
trail,  and  there  he  would  wait  for  the  pack  train. 

The  valley  before  him  was  wide  and  deep,  as  Sid 
put  the  spurs  to  Nig.  Yellow  streaks  of  cotton- 
woods,  with  their  leaves  turned  orange,  ran  along 
"the  hillsides,  and  the  dark  green  clumps  of  spruces 
mingled  with  thick  tangles  of  alders.  Suddenly,  out 

26 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

jumped  two  deer,  and  Sid's  heart  began  to  pound 
with  excitement.  He  could  tell  by  their  springy 
lope  that  they  were  mule-deer,  and  he  fumbled 
frantically  at  his  rifle  scabbard  for  the  .35.  Swing- 
ing a  yard  ahead  of  the  foremost  buck  he  pulled 
the  trigger  and  the  heavy  rifle  roared  out,  nearly 
kicking  him  from  the  saddle. 

What  happened  next  was  more  in  the  nature  of  an 
explosion  than  anything  else!  Nig  went  up  in  the 
air  like  a  sky-rocket,  and  Sid  snatched  at  his  bridle, 
as  his  hoofs  lashed  out.  Down  he  came,  with  a 
sidewise  twist  that  nearly  unseated  the  boy,  and  the 
rifle  pitched  wildly  out  onto  the  prairie,  while  Nig 
pranced  off  in  a  series  of  twisting  bucks. 

"  G-g  —  gunshy !  G-g-go  it,  you  demon !  " 
gasped  Sid,  hanging  to  the  pommel  with  the  strength 
of  despair.  Nig  raced  down  the  slope  and  swerved 
violently  —  and  —  with  a  dizzy  whirl  Sid  felt  the 
saddle  turning  under  him!  That  loose  cinch  strap 
had  let  the  whole  works  come  over  as  the  pad  flew 
out  behind.  The  boy  felt  himself  falling,  kicked 
loose  the  off  stirrup  and  sprang  lightly  to  the  ground 
as  Nig  raced  off,  kicking  and  snorting,  and  tossing 
up  his  heels  at  every  jump. 

"Nig!  —  Here,  Nig!  —  Come  here,  you 
27 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

wretch!"  gasped  Sid,  racing  after  him.  As  well 
catch  the  wind!  Nig  whinnied,  and  whirled  about 
in  circles,  just  out  of  reach,  kicking  up  his  heels  and 
laughing  at  the  exasperated  youth  as  only  a  pony  can 
laugh.  Then  he  bolted  over  the  hill,  with  Sid  tear- 
ing after  him.  When  the  lad  reached  the  hilltop, 
Nig  was  browsing  quietly,  but  the  moment  he  got 
within  ten  feet,  up  would  go  Nig's  head  and  with  a 
snort  he  would  circle  again. 

"  Daggone  you !  I'll  lose  both  my  rifle  and  the 
buck,  too,  if  I  don't  watch  out!"  exclaimed  Sid. 
"  You  go  plumb  to  blazes !  I'm  going  to  tend  to 
venison ! " 

Abandoning  the  wayward  pony  in  disgust,  he  re- 
traced his  steps  and  followed  his  snow  tracks  back 
until  he  picked  up  the  lost  rifle.  A  little  brown 
heap  across  the  valley  looked  like  the  buck,  and  Sid 
remembered  that  the  deer  had  stumbled  at  the  rifle- 
shot, before  that  equine  squall  had  struck  him,  so 
he  set  out  for  the  spot.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  bunch 
of  dead  fire-weed,  but  there  was  blood  on  the  snow, 
and  the  boy  followed  on  eagerly.  The  tracks,  with 
dragging  forehoofs  streaking  in  the  snow  and  hind 
hoof  tracks  placed  outside  of  them,  told  of  a  buck 
hit  high  in  the  shoulder.  They  led  into  a  very 

28 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

dickens  of  a  tangle  of  small  spruces  and  alder 
clumps,  but  there  was  plentiful  blood  along  the  trail, 
and,  a  hundred  yards  into  it,  he  came  upon  the  buck, 
dead, —  a  fine  mule-deer,  with  his  double-Y  antlers 
sharp  and  shiny  I 

"  Fresh  meat !  "  whooped  Sid.  "  Now,  if  I  could 
only  catch  Nig  and  come  back  to  the  pack  train  with 
that  buck  across  my  saddle  —  oh,  boy!  " 

Nig  was  feeding  down  the  opposite  slope,  but 
Sid  pretended  to  pay  him  no  further  attention.  He 
drew  his  hunting  knife,  paunched  the  deer,  and  then 
cut  three  slender  poles  and  lashed  them  into  a  tripod 
with  the  strap  of  his  rifle.  Then  he  pushed  up  one 
pole  at  a  time  until  the  buck  hung  suspended  by 
the  antlers. 

"  Pretty  good  for  one  skinny  boy !  "  he  observed, 
admiring  his  work.  "  Gee,  I'm  hungry !  Wonder 
if  Big  John  will  ever  track  me  up  in  the  snow?  " 

He  reached  up  inside  the  buck  and  cut  loose  the 
heart,  as  the  major  had  often  told  him' it  was  the  only 
fresh  deer  meat  fit  to  eat.  Soon  he  had  a  small  fire 
going,  with  slices  of  meat  broiling  on  sticks.  Then 
Nig  whickered,  and  Sid  looked  up,  to  see  three  horse- 
men approaching.  They  scattered,  silently,  two  of 
the  Blackfoot,  their  black  braided  pigtails  dangling 

29 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

over  their  shoulders  going  up  the  ridge  on  each 
side  of  him  while  the  third  rode  up  the  valley,  right 
at  him. 

"  Gee ! "  breathed  Sid  to  himself,  nervously, 
"  those  are  real  Indians !  The  first  I've  ever  seen." 

They  gave  him  the  impression  of  ragged  dirti- 
ness,—  dirty,  dark,  black  Stetsons ;  baggy  trousers ; 
dirty,  blue  lumberman's  shirts;  and  around  their 
heads  were  red  cotton  bandannas,  while  their  hair 
shone  black  in  two  greasy  braids  down  each  side  of 
their  ears.  The  foremost  carried  a  Winchester,  bal- 
anced with  its  butt  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle. 

"  No  can  shoot  on  Reservation,  white  man ! "  he 
grunted  coming  up  to  Sid,  his  eyes  flashing  angrily. 
Rustlings  in  the  thickets  told  of  the  other  two  clos- 
ing up  on  him,  as  Sid  stammered  out  something 
about  being  lost  and  not  knowing  he  had  strayed 
over  the  boundary. 

"White  boy, —  heap  liar!"  snorted  the  Indian, 
contemptuously.  "Plenty  lie!  Hunt  all  time! 
Me,  Injun  p'leece ;  you  come ! "  he  ordered,  slipping 
off  his  horse  and  advancing  with  a  pair  of  hand 
cuffs. 

"No!"  stamped  Sid.  "Me  make  mistake! 
Buck  yours !  Me  lost  I  I  tell  you  —  where  trail  ?  " 

30 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

"  No  good !  Must  come !  "  threatened  the  police- 
man, stolidly.  "  We  go  to  Browning." 

Browning !  It  was  forty  miles  away  to  the  north ! 
Sid  decided  he  would  not  go  there,  at  any  rate,  if 
he  had  to  fight  for  it,  or  else  to  bide  his  time  and 
make  good  his  escape.  "  All  right.  Me  make  mis- 
take !  You  see !  "  Sid  warned  the  Indian.  "  No 
want  hand  cuffs." 

The  other  two  Indians  had  now  come  up,  and  one 
of  them  lowered  the  buck  while  the  other  set  off  after 
Nig,  kicking  his  pony  along  with  the  peculiar  jerky 
seat  of  an  Indian  rider.  Nig  whirled  about,  kicked 
up  his  heels,  and  trotted  off,  but  the  Indian  soon  ran 
him  down  and  came  back,  towing  him  by  his  bridle. 

"  Now  ride,  white  boy  —  no  funny  business !  " 
growled  the  chief,  laying  his  hand  menacingly  on  the 
butt  of  his  Colt.  Sid  spoke  to  them  about  his  rifle, 
whereat  the  mounted  Indian  rode  over  on  the  oppo- 
site flank  to  recover  it.  This  took  some  time,  during 
which  both  of  the  others  were  busied  at  hoisting 
the  buck  up  on  the  saddle. 

Pretending  to  help  them,  Sid  saw  his  chance,  and, 
just  as  the  mounted  Indian  was  shouting  over  across 
the  valley  something  in  unintelligible  Blackfoot 
about  the  rifle,  he  put  spurs  to  Nig  and  was  off  like 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

the  wind!  He  left  behind  him  a  chorus  of  aston- 
ished grunts,  and  a  whirl  of  guttural  oaths  as  the 
other  two  dashed  for  their  saddles,  and  then  a  pistol 
shot  whistled  past  his  ears  as  he  raced  into  the  spruce 
cover.  Keeping  below  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  he 
drove  Nig  at  top  speed  through  the  cotton  woods, 
found  a  forested  gully  and  went  over  the  ridge  un- 
seen, riding  like  the  wind.  The  thunder  of  hoofs 
and  hoarse  shouts  of  the  Indians  behind  him  came 
to  his  ears  dimly  as  he  swept  down  the  slope  and 
slid  over  a  steep  clay  bank  down  to  the  bed  of  a  wide 
creek.  He  was  in  a  big  semi-circular  amphitheater, 
from  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  escape.  The  steep 
clay  banks  rose  abruptly  all  around  a  huge  bend,  as 
far  as  eye  could  follow  and  presently  two  of  the 
Indians  appeared  above  him,  galloping  along  the 
crest 

"  It's  time  I  tried  a  signal!  "  muttered  Sid,  jump- 
ing off  Nig  and  tying  him  to  a  bush.  "  Darn  that 
gunshy  pony  anyhow !  " 

He  whipped  out  his  six  shooter  and  fired  in  the  air. 
Bung!  Bang!  Bang! —  Bang!  —  the  old  pri- 
vate signal  of  the  major. 

From  far  to  the  west  came  the  faint  Rap!  Rap! 
Rap!  —  Rap!  of  a  repeating  rifle  in  answer,  and  at 

32 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

the  same  instant  the  Indian  chief  rode  thundering 
down  the  slope,  waving  Sid's  rifle  high  in  the  air. 

A  dangerous  light  glared  in  Sid's  eye.  His  fight- 
ing blood  was  up,  and  the  smell  of  powder  tingled 
good  and  crisp  in  his  nostrils.  He  turned  his  six 
shooter  full  on  the  Indian. 

"  Keep  off !  —  or  some  one's  going  to  get  hurt !  " 
he  shouted,  covering  the  horseman  with  the  bright 
front  sight  of  the  Colt. 

But  the  Indian's  actions  were  peaceful.  He  held 
up  his  left  hand,  and  grinned  broadly  as  he  checked 
his  pony.  "  You,  Henoga  boy?  "  he  called,  smiling. 

"  Henoga ! )J  the  major's  own  Indian  name ! 
How  strange  its  guttural  pronunciation  sounded 
from  a  red  man's  throat ! 

"  Yes  —  Henoga's  son,  me !  "  came  back  Sid. 
"  That's  Henoga's  rifle ;  that's  his  signal  I  just  gave 
with  my  six-gun." 

"Good!  Heap  good!  Me  know  that  signal'/' 
grinned  the  chief,  swinging  in  his  saddle  and  waving 
at  his  men  on  the  brink. 

"  Henoga's  boy! "  he  called  up  at  them.  "  Hen- 
oga, one  time,  plenty  good  to  Blackfoot,"  added  the 
chief,  with  deep  gratitude  in  his  tones,  handing  back 
the  rifle. 

33 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Then  the  rapid  beat  of  hoofs  came  thundering  up 
the  opposite  side  of  the  bend,  and  Big  John's  high 
domed  sombrero  showed  on  the  sky  line  as  he 
checked  his  mount.  "  Hi,  you  Sid  —  where  in 
thunder  you  been?"  he  yelled  down  angrily. 
"  What  you  doin'  down  there  ?  I've  been  f ollyin' 
yore  tracks  f er  th'  last  hour !  " 

He  put  the  spurs  to  his  pony,  and  the  beast 
squatted  down  on  his  haunches  and  slid  down  like  a 
pung  into  the  creek  bottom.  "  Hello,  Big  Spring  — 
what's  up  ?  "  he  queried,  sternly,  eyeing  the  squat 
Indian  policeman  questioningly. 

But  the  chief  was  all  one  huge,  wrinkled,  coppery 
grin.  "  Henoga  boy !  — "  he  grunted  happily,  point- 
ing at  Sid.  "  Him  kill  buck  on  Reservation. 
A'right!  Blackfoot  no  see  'em,"  he  winked. 

"  Shore,  didn't  ye  know,  son's,  agin  the  law  fer 
a  white  man  to  shoot  game  on  the  Injun  Reserva- 
tion? "  queried  Big  John. 

"  Yes,  I  knew  it ;  but  I  wasn't  sure  I  was  on  the 
Reservation,  and  so  took  a  chance,"  explained  Sid. 

"  's  all  right !  —  but  don't  let  'em  ketch  ye  agin !  " 
warned  Big  John. 

"  No  —  no !  Plenty  all  right !  "  burst  in  the 
chief,  nodding  his  head  vigorously.  "  Henoga  heap 

34 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

Blackfoot —  him  son  Blackfoot,  too!  Plenty 
shoot !  Me,  Big  Spring,  say  so !  "  and,  ripping  out 
his  Indian  Police  pad  Big  Spring  wrote  a  few  words 
on  it  in  Blackfoot,  added  some  sign-language  in 
hieroglyphics  and  signed  it. 

"  Thar,  sonny  —  that's  the  freedom  of  the  Res- 
ervation fer  ye/J  explained  Big  John  as  the  chief 
handed  Sid  the  paper.  "  You  shore  kin  thank  yore 
ol'  daddy  for  that!  " 

The  party  rode  back  and  transferred  the  buck  to 
Nig's  cantle. 

"  Whar's  thet  pesky  pack  cayuse !  "  suddenly  ex- 
claimed Big  John.  "  Thet  Injun-hoss'll  shore  kill 
usallyit!" 

"Gee!  I'd  clean  forgot  him !"  said  Sid.  "  We'll 
ride  back  to  where  I  fired  at  the  deer  and  pick  up  his 
tracks." 

Injun  was  not  far  to  seek.  He  had  just  wandered 
until  he  had  struck  good  food,  and  was  most  indus- 
triously filling  his  belly  with  prairie  bunch  grass. 
Big  John  rode  him  down  and  got  possession  of  his 
halter,  making  that  wide  cowboy  swoop  from  the 
saddle  that  Sid  had  seen  in  pictures,  and  then  they 
said  good-by  to  the  Indians. 

"Good-by,  big-little  Henoga,"  called  out  the 
35 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Chief  as  they  departed,  "  Injun  heap  never  forget!  " 
"  Son,  yore  tracks  show  you've  been  makin'  a 
regTr  spiral  circle,  gettin'  smaller  an'  smaller  every 
time  ye  come  around,  an'  soon  ye'd  be  in  the  center 
of  it  and  turning  round  on  y're  tail,"  laughed  Big 
John,  as  they  rode  off  to  the  west.  "  The  main  trail 
ain't  mor'n  a  mile  from  here,  nohow !  " 

Up  and  down  the  hills  they  rode,  passing  prairie 
ponds  full  of  ducks,  and  flushing  prairie  chickens 
around  the  cottonwood  draws,  until,  from  a  ridge- 
top,  the  pack  train  came  into  sight,  with  Scotty 
guarding  it.  To  insure  good  conduct  in  the  future, 
Injun  was  tied  with  his  halter  lashed  to  the  tail  of 
the  horse  next  ahead,  and  so  they  set  out  along  the 
foothills  again.  Sid,  as  outrider,  had  little  more 
to  do.  It  was  Scotty,  the  train  leader,  who  was 
continually  turning  around  for  more  instructions  as 
to  where  to  spot  the  next  blaze,  for  the  snow  had 
obliterated  all  traces  of  the  trail. 

Finally,  Frozen  Dog  ranch  came  in  sight.  Far 
out  on  a  prairie  flat  beside  a  big  pond  it  lay,  a  hud- 
dle of  log  buildings  and  lodgepole  pine  fences  and 
horse  corral.  Black  dots  grazing  on  the  prairie  told 
of  Big  John's  stock  of  horse  flesh.  Huge  flocks  of 
wild  ducks  rose  from  the  pond  as  they  rode  up,  while 

36 


FROZEN  DOG  RANCH 

far  overhead  two  V's  of  wild  geese  were  meeting 
in  the  air,  honking  to  each  other  as  they  discussed 
where  to  sleep  for  the  night. 

"  Gee !  What  a  game  country,  Scotty ! "  ex- 
claimed Sid,  reining  up  at  the  head  of  the  train. 
"  Boy  —  we'll  up  and  at  'em  to-morrow,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  bet ! "  agreed  Scotty,  his  eyes  on  the  wild 
geese  flapping  high  overhead.  "  I  never  shot  one  of 
those  in  my  life  —  have  you,  Sid  ?  " 

A  tall,  austere  Indian  came  out  of  the  log  house, 
his  stolid  face  breaking  into  a  genial  grin,  as  he  took 
the  pack  horses  and  strung  them  out  along  a  hitch- 
ing rail.  They  all  set  to  work  at  unloading,  un- 
saddling and  turning  the  horses  loose  in  the  corral, 
after  which  there  was  plenty  of  man's  food  cooked 
on  a  wood  stove  in  the  main  log  cabin,  and  then 
the  boys  turned  in,  in  a  room  in  the  bunk  house, 
and  slept  like  logs. 


CHAPTER  III 
OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

THE  wind  was  howling  through  the  chinks 
of  the  bunk  house  when  Scotty  awoke,  to 
find  Sid  already  puttering  over  some  bits  of 
wire  and  lead  sinkers  that  he  had  dug  up  out  of  his 
ditty  bag. 

"What  in  the  Nation !  — what's  up,  Sid?"  he 
yawned,  kicking  off  the  Indian  blankets  that  had 
covered  them.  "  Wow !  —  it's  some  cold  here !  " 

"  Fixin'  for  decoys,"  explained  Sid.  "  We  have 
none,  so  we'll  have  to  make  dead  ducks  do.  Get 
your  clothes  on  and  come  along."  Scotty  thawed 
out  his  high-laced  hunting  boots  and  drew  them  on, 
put  together  the  little  twenty-gauge  shot-gun, 
grabbed  some  shells,  and  set  off  after  Sid,  who  was 
impatiently  waiting  outside.  It  was  early  dawn  on 
the  prairie,  and  the  ducks  were  circling  in  black 
clouds  over  the  pond,  while  hundreds  of  them  fed 
in  the  shallow  waters  off-shore.  The  boys  made  a 
low  blind  of  sage  brush  on  a  point,  and  crouched 
there,  waiting  for  a  flock  to  come  along. 

38 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

Presently,  "Mark  east!  Down!  —  Down!" 
hissed  Sid,  pressing  Scotty's  eager  shoulder  down 
flat  to  the  bunch  grass.  A  flock  of  fifteen  red- 
heads came  whistling  down-wind,  veered  in  a  swift 
circle,  and  threw  up  their  wings  preparatory  to  light- 
ing. 

"  Now! "  barked  Sid,  and  both  boys  rose  to  their 
knees  and  let  drive  both  barrels,  as  the  astonished 
ducks  jumped  wildly  for  the  clouds.  Three  fell, 
and  then  both  second  barrels  spoke  as  one,  as  they 
doubled  on  a  big,  conspicuous  drake,  climbing  for  all 
he  was  worth. 

"  Four  down !  "  yelled  Scotty,  and  was  about  to 
jump  from  the  blind  when  Sid  halted  him.  "  Never 
do  that,  fellah  —  you  know  better.  Reload  for  all 
your  worth,  before  you  stir ! " 

They  jammed  in  fresh  shells  and  crawled  out  of 
the  blind  while  the  wind  blew  the  dead  ducks  ashore. 
"  Mark!  —  Overhead !  "  gasped  Sid,  suddenly 
jumping  to  his  knees.  A  lone  sprig  sizzled  by,  high 
in  the  air,  and  with  a  quick  shoulder-shot  Scotty 
stopped  him  and  the  bird  thumped  to  earth  behind 
them.  It  was  a  difficult  shot,  and  Scotty  tingled  all 
over  with  pride,  for  he  had  been  somewhat  subdued 
and  overcrowed  by  Sid's  deer  exploit  of  the  day  be- 

39 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

fore,  for  he  knew  that  in  the  outdoors  full  com- 
panionship only  comes  to  him  who  makes  good. 

"Pretty  work,  pal!"  whooped  Sid,  generously. 
"  Some  duck  scourge!  Now  we  have  five  decoys." 

They  retrieved  the  drifting  dead  ducks,  and  wired 
some  of  them  so  their  heads  set  naturally,  while  to 
the  necks  of  two  of  them,  they  attached  heavy  sinkers 
which  held  them,  tail  up,  in  the  water  as  if  feeding. 
Then  they  tied  lengths  of  string  to  the  legs  of  the 
others,  and  staked  them  out  in  the  water,  about 
twenty  yards  out  from  the  blind. 

"  Business  as  usual !  "  chuckled  Sid,  as  they  got 
back  into  the  blind  once  more. 

They  lay  watching  the  galaxies  and  cohorts  of 
flying  ducks  for  some  time.  Compared  to  the  oc- 
casional flights  back  east,  this  was  grand  shooting ! 

"For  the  love  of  Pete!  "  whispered  Scotty  sud- 
denly. "Look  who's  here!" 

A  flock  of  little  blue-winged  teal  had  flown  in, 
un-noticed,  and  now,  like  so  many  puddle  ducks, 
they  were  crowded  together  out  in  front,  feeding 
in  the  shallowest  water. 

"  Up  and  at  'em !  "  roared  Sid,  and  they  emptied 
both  barrels  as  the  flock  exploded  into  the  air  like  a 
dense,  feathered  bombshell.  "  Golly  —  it's  raining 

40 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

ducks !  "  danced  Scotty  as  the  little  fellows  showered 
down.  "  Say,  I'm  never  going  home !  Who 
wouldn't  be  a  Black  foot,  and  live  in  a  tepee,  out  in 
all  this!" 

"  Me,  too !    Come,  let's  gather  'em  in." 

All  morning  the  flights  kept  up.  There  was  point 
shooting,  pass  shooting,  every  known  kind  of  shot 
that  a  duck  can  give,  and  presently  the  shells  ran 
out  and  the  boys  started  home,  with  the  legal  limit 
each  for  the  day. 

"  Shore  I  hearn  the  battle  o'  Gettysburg!  "  grinned 
Big  John  as  they  staggered  in.  "  Ef  you  shoot  all 
day  ye  cain't  make  even  a  dent  in  them  ducks  of 
ourn.  We'd  better  take  one  o'  them  leetle  scatter 
guns  into  the  mountains  with  us,  I'm  settin'  here  to 
tell  you!  "he  declared. 

"It'll  come  mighty  handy  for  chickens,  eh?" 
agreed  Sid. 

"  Yaas.  You  boys  gotta  help  pack  the  cayuses, 
now,  for  we  hits  the  trail  for  the  Big  Hump  'safter- 
noon,  I'm  thinkin'.  Ain't  no  use  foolin'  around 
here  no  longer,  nohow/'  said  Big  John,  wagging  his 
head  vigorously. 

By  two  o'clock  the  last  pack  was  ready  and  the 
saddle  horses  equipped  down  to  the  last  thong. 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Leaving  the  Indian  in  charge,  the  cavalcade  of  six 
pack  horses,  with  the  three  riders  guiding  them,  set 
out  into  the  Rockies.  Higher  and  steeper  grew  the 
slopes  of  the  foothills,  with  the  trail  a  mere  blazed 
stake  here  and  there,  or  a  cairn  of  stones  marking 
the  way.  Up  and  up  they  wound,  until  below  them 
stretched  the  endless  miles  of  the  vast  prairie,  dotted 
with  lakes  and  ponds,  covered  with  light  snow  for 
a  few  miles  out,  and  beyond  that  dry,  brown  bunch 
of  grass,  to  the  far  horizon.  A  lonely  tepee  here 
and  there,  far  out  on  some  flat,  with  the  black  dots 
of  horses  grazing  around  it,  was  the  sole  sign  of 
human  life.  To  the  west  frowned  the  snowy  and 
rock-ribbed  slopes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  peep- 
ing over  the  tops  of  the  foothills.  A  glorious  bliz- 
zard was  going  on  up  there,  and  puffs  of  it  would 
shoot  out  now  and  then,  in  flurries  of  snow. 

Big  John  sang;  a  stern,  manly  horn  of  a  voice, 
while  he  cursed  and  snowballed  the  horses  into  line. 

"  I've  tromped  —  for  many  a  —  weary  mile 
Across  —  Nebras  —  ka's  sands 
And  o'er  the  dreary  Staked  Plains 
And  up  —  the  Ri-o-Grande, 
But  the  Bad-Lands  of  Wyo  — 
—  Ming,  are  the  worst  —  I  ev- 
Ver  seen.    It's  the  coun  —  try  where 
42 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

You  freeze  to  death,  and  the  do- 
Gies  are  —  so  lean  1 " 

The  boys  listened  and  giggled  to  themselves,  as 
the  song  jolted  out  to  the  jerk  of  Blaze's  saddle  and 
verse  after  verse  of  the  tramping  rhythms  of  the 
"  Texas  Ranger  "  roared  out.  Wheeling  and  cir- 
cling like  hawks  on  their  agile  ponies,  they  rounded 
up  the  perverse  and  wayward  pack  animals,  who  per- 
sisted in  wandering  all  over  the  slopes,  doing  their 
best  to  run  their  fool  selves  over  the  precipices, 
which  became  more  and  more  frequent  as  they 
mounted  higher  toward  the  Little  Divide.  These 
outer  ramparts  of  the  Main  Chain  almost  deluded 
the  boys  into  the  belief  that  they  were  real  moun- 
tains, so  rugged  and  steep  were  they.  Towering 
two  thousand  feet  above  the  plain  of  the  prairie,  the 
trail  zigzagged  up  their  stony  slopes  causing  many 
a  chase  after  the  pack  animals.  But,  every  now 
and  then  a  glimpse  of  glistening  white  summits 
through  some  pass  told  of  the  big  fellows,  still  a 
day's  march  away,  over  which  they  must  climb  to 
reach  the  game  country  of  Big  River. 

A  sharp  series  of  rocky  precipices  slid  them  over 
the  Little  Divide,  and  down  into  the  valley  of  the 
Lewis  and  Clark  National  Forest,  across  which 

43 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

frowned  the  snowclad  peaks  of  the  real  Rockies. 
It  was  nightfall  when  they  finally  turned  the  horses 
loose  in  a  mountain  meadow,  cleared  off  the  snow 
from  the  bunch  grass,  laid  out  a  big  tarpaulin,  and 
spread  the  sleeping  bags  out  in  a  row  on  it.  Big 
John  cooked  up  a  mess  of  doughgods  in  his  sooty 
dutch  oven;  there  was  a  huge  pail  of  mulligan, 
compounded  of  spuds,  venison  chunks  from  Sid's 
buck,  onions,  rice,  canned  tomatoes  and  peas.  Six 
quarts  of  it  the  four  downed.  Then  there  was  sar- 
vice  berry  jam  from  the  ranch,  and  bully  old  tea 
that  would  wake  up  a  dead  man.  Fed  full,  the 
party  slept  out  in  a  row  under  the  stars,  with  a 
tarp  thrown  over  them,  while  the  coyotes  howled  in 
an  eerie  chorus  from  the  mountain  flanks,  and  later 
came  rustling  and  skulking  into  camp  after  food 
remnants,  to  be  routed  and  scattered  by  a  fling  of 
Big  John's  boots. 

On  the  next  day  they  pushed  on  into  the  moun- 
tains, the  Main  Chain  this  time.  The  trail  led 
along  lesser  flanks  through  spruce  forests,  where 
they  forded  wide  streams,  climbed  steep  hog's  backs, 
and  threaded  through  miles  of  burnt  timber,  with  the 
seedling  lodgepole  pine  already  springing  up  to  take 
the  place  of  the  stand  lost  by  the  big  fire  which  had 

44 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

swept  through  here  in  1910.  Tracks  crossed  the 
trail  in  the  snow  continually,  and  it  became  a  sort  of 
woodman's  game  to  identify  them.  Here  would  be 
the  sharp,  cloven  hoof,  dainty  and  small,  of  the 
white-tail  deer ;  further  along  the  large  and  rounder 
hoof  of  the  mule-deer,  with  its  dew-claw  marks 
showing  distinctly  behind  each  print ;  for  both  kinds 
are  found  in  these  mountains.  Here  the  pairs  of 
clawed  feet  of  the  mink ;  yonder  the  single- foot  pugs 
of  a  lone  timber  wolf,  with  its  long  palm  and  a  track 
far  larger  than  any  dog's.  Three  times  that  day 
the  party  paused  over  the  big  conical  prints  of  the 
elk,  and  debated  whether  to  follow  them  further; 
and  once  an  old  bear  track  showed  the  great  mocca- 
sin-like footprints  of  Old  Eph,  and  the  boys  begged 
Big  John  to  stop,  but,  as  the  snow  showed  them  at 
least  two  days'  old,  he  passed  them  up.  Finally, 
dog-tired  from  alternate  walking  and  sitting  in  the 
saddle,  or  leading  the  horses  up  and  down  steep 
chasms  in  the  rocks,  the  pack  train  pitched  down  off 
a  huge  hog's  back  larger  than  any  of  the  Alleghenies 
and  they  loped  down  grassy  slopes,  into  a  valley 
where  Big  Badger  creek  roared  down  from  the 
mountains  and  the  Government  Ranger  had  a  cabin. 
"  Waal,  we  done  thutty  mile,  to-day  —  you  boys 
45 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

pretty  tired?  "  questioned  Big  John,  leaping  off  Blaze 
and  uncinching  his  saddle. 

"  You  said  it !  —  when  do  we  eat  ?  "  chorused 
the  boys,  following  his  lead. 

"  Not  till  you  all  fetches  me  a  mess  o'  trout,"  de- 
clared Big  John.  "  Big  Badger's  full  o'  'em.  Git 
out  yore  rods  while  I  fix  up  camp  and  put  out  th' 
hosses." 

The  boys*  spirits  rose  at  once  —  anything  for  the 
zest  of  a  change !  There  is  no  better  rest  than  good 
sport.  They  dug  out  fly  boxes  and  reels  from  their 
kits  and  jointed  up  their  rods.  Trout  -fishing  in  Big 
Badger  was  simply  a  matter  of  working  up  stream 
and  keeping  reasonably  out  of  sight,  for  it  was  alive 
with  cutthroat  trout,  who  took  Sid's  Parmacheene 
Belle  and  Scotty's  Coachman  savagely.  The  boys 
fished  dry,  with  small  floating  flies,  and  there  were 
flumes  and  rapids  with  pools  below  them  which 
yielded  trout  after  trout  with  hardly  more  work 
than  the  effort  of  coasting. 

"  For  cat's  sake,  aren't  they  beauties,  though, 
Sid?"  called  Scotty  enthusiastically,  holding  up  a 
two-pounder.  "  Look  at  the  black  spots  and  the 
streak  of  red  under  the  throat !  Boy,  we  don't  get 
'em  this  size  back  East !  " 

46 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

"  I've  got  a  whale  on,  now/'  gasped  Sid,  as  his 
rod  bowed  in  a  thin  arc.  "Wheel  —  There  he 
goes,  under  that  log ! "  He  held  the  rod  taut  and 
chucked  in  a  big  stone.  It  fell  with  a  splash  and 
dislodged  Mister  Trout,  who  gyrated  around  the 
pool,  seemingly  never  tired.  Sid  played  him  back 
and  forth,  finally  leading  him  into  the  shallows  be- 
low, where  he  waded  out  and  slipped  the  landing  net 
under  him. 

"  That  makes  ten  for  me !  "  he  called,  "  all  taken 
out  of  this  one  pool,  too!  How  many  you  got, 
Scotty?" 

"Don't  know  —  but  enough!"  laughed  the  red- 
haired  boy  enthusiastically.  "  I'm  tired,  and  I  could 
eat  a  raw  elephant.  Let's  get  back  to  camp." 

They  cleaned  the  fish  and  soon  were  sizzling  them 
in  bacon  fat  in  the  camp  fry  pans.  Big  John  put 
up  the  pup  tent  and  set  up  the  sheet-iron  stove,  which 
glowed  in  the  twilight  with  a  ruddy  heat  and  on 
which  sundry  pots  and  pans  gave  forth  odors  which 
spread  a  ferocious  appetite  around  camp. 

"  A  man  could  get  almighty  daggone  hot,  a-settin' 
on  that  there  stove ! "  observed  Big  John  whimsi- 
cally, flipping  four  flapjacks  in  the  big  fry  pan  with 
his  hunting  knife.  "  You  boys  like  Speckled  Pup  ?  " 

47 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  I  could  eat  a  yaller  dog ! "  yawned  Sid  caver- 
nously.  "  Trot  her  out !  " 

"  Well,  the  Pup's  nigh  done,"  said  Big  John,  peer- 
ing judgmatically  into  a  stewing  pot,  "  and  so's  them 
trout  of  yourn. —  Come  and  get  it !  "  he  roared. 

The  boys  fell  to  and  downed  six  trout  and  eleven 
flapjacks  each  at  a  sitting.  Then  came  the  Pup, 
which  is  a  mountain  delicacy  of  raisins  and  rice, 
and  after  that  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  spread 
out  their  sleeping  bags  in  the  tent  and  crawl  in. 
The  stove  was  filled  with  wood  billets  which  made 
it  glow  like  a  red  demon,  while  Big  John  crept  into 
his  canvas  cowman's  bedroll  and  slept  outside  near 
its  heat.  The  long  "  Aooo  —  oooooh!  "  of  the  tim- 
ber wolf  floated  down  from  the  mountains,  and  the 
moon  rose  in  silvery  splendor,  but  the  camp  was 
busy  with  snores  of  its  own,  and  neither  heard  nor 
saw  them. 

On  the  next  day  they  hit  the  long  trail  up  to  the 
slope  of  the  Continental  Divide.  Up  the  valley  of 
Big  Badger,  through  ten  miles  of  burnt  and  down 
timber,  with  great  windfalls  and  avalanche  scars 
crossing  the  trail  and  making  log  jumping  the  reg- 
ular thing  for  the  pack  horses,  the  cavalcade  pushed 
on,  while  the  granite  walls  of  the  Rockies  closed  in 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

on  them  and  the  white  summits  seemed  near  and 
familiar  now.  Deeper  and  deeper  grew  the  snow, 
and  steeper  and  more  zigzaggy  the  trail,  while  the 
wind  cut  across  the  white  summit  of  the  Divide  like 
a  knife.  Then  suddenly  the  trail  took  a  twist, 
dodged  the  white  snow  ridge  which  barred  their  way, 
and  dove  through  a  gap.  They  were  on  the  summit 
of  the  Continent.  That  little  rill,  flowing  out  under 
the  edge  of  a  hanging  glacier  on  the  ridge  cliff,  wag 
the  beginning  of  Big  Badger.  That  icy  water  flow- 
ing down  the  valley  would  travel  three  thousand 
miles,  through  the  Milk,  the  Missouri  and  the  Mis- 
sissippi Rivers  to  the  far-distant  Gulf  of  Mexico! 
The  boys  watched  it  with  a  thrill  of  awe,  and  then 
turned  to  peer  through  the  gap  at  Pacific  water. 
Dense  clouds  filled  the  valleys  below  on  that  side, 
and  here  was  a  tiny  spring,  whose  drops  would 
trickle  down  some  nameless  rill,  to  join  Big  River 
far  below,  whence  it  would  flow  into  the  Flathead, 
which  would  deliver  it  to  the  Columbia,  and  thence 
to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  two  thousand  miles  away ! 

"  It's  fourteen  miles  from  here  down  to  Big 
River,"  said  Big  John,  when  they  had  looked  their 
fill,  "  and  we  gotta  keep  moggin'.  Hip,  thar,  you 
Injun!" 

49 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

The  pack  train  started  on  down,  tied  halter  to  tail, 
for  it  would  not  do  to  let  them  wander  down  these 
terrific  slopes.  Sid  and  Scotty  rode  in  close,  lead- 
ing their  horses  most  of  the  time,  for  it  was  too 
steep  to  stay  on  horseback.  The  animals  slid  down 
and  grunted,  and  ran  off  the  trail,  to  get  jammed  in 
the  spruces ;  and  still  down,  down  the  massive  slopes 
they  climbed. 

Out  of  a  clump  of  spruces  flushed  a  pair  of  sharp- 
tailed  grouse  and  sailed  off  down  into  a  deep  valley. 

"  Go  git  'em,  Scotty,  we  need  meat  for  the  mulli- 
gan," advised  Big  John.  "  We-all  will  fetch  up 
jist  across  that  there  valley  an'  ye  can  meet  us  thar." 

Scotty  untied  the  little  twenty-gauge  shot-gun 
from  the  top  of  a  pack  and  set  off  after  them.  As 
he  left  the  pack  train  going  on  down  the  mountains 
and  set  off  alone  on  his  first  venture  in  a  wholly  wild 
land,  the  boy's  heart  beat  with  unwonted  excite- 
ment All  he  had  ever  read  of  bears  and  cata- 
mounts and  charging  elk  in  this  country  came  to 
him.  He  tried  to  feel  stout-hearted,  as  Sid  seemed 
to  be,  but  disquieting  fears  would  rise  up  within 
him,  and  he  was  mighty  glad  the  big  .38  lay  snug  in 
its  holster  on  the  saddle  bow,  and  the  .30  U.  S.  Gov- 
ernment carbine  felt  mighty  good  and  dependable, 

50 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

lying  in  its  scabbard  under  his  left  leg !  He  worked 
the  pony  down  cautiously  through  the  timber,  look- 
ing to  the  right  and  left  for  wild  animals,  for  any- 
thing might  turn  up,  now  that  they  were  well  into 
the  mountains. 

Finally  he  got  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  valley. 
A  noisy  brook  wallowed  through  thickets  of  red 
willow,  the  kinnikinic  of  the  Indian  tobacco  pipe, 
and  here  he  tied  his  horse  under  some  spruces,  as 
he  had  no  wish  to  repeat  Sid's  experience  with  a 
gun-shy  mount. 

Then  he  set  out  with  the  shotgun  to  where  he  had 
marked  down  the  chickens.  They  had  lit  in  a  little 
mountain  meadow,  surrounded  with  spruce  and  al- 
der thickets,  and  both  jumped  as  he  set  foot  in  it. 
Planting  his  feet  like  rocks,  he  let  go  with  both  bar- 
rels, and  the  first  grouse  crumpled.  The  other 
soared  off  through  the  spruces  up  the  valley,  and 
Scotty  marked  down  the  last  glimpse  of  him,  set- 
tling in  some  orange-leaved  cottonwoods  a  couple 
of  hundred  yards  away.  He  retrieved  the  first 
grouse  and  then  set  out  after  the  other. 

It  was  dense  timber  along  that  mountain  flank, 
and  presently  he  found  himself  in  lodgepole  pine, 
so  thick  that  he  could  scarcely  force  his  way  through. 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

He  stopped  and  listened,  hesitating,  as  a  movement 
in  the  dense  brush  attracted  him.  Then  —  Crash ! 
went  a  noise  in  the  forest,  ahead  of  him,  and  Scotty 
stopped  stock-still,  his  heart  beating  so  that  he  could 
hear  it  through  his  open  mouth. 

"  Somethin'  doin',  by  gum !  "  he  muttered,  finger- 
ing the  safety  of  the  shotgun.  Then  he  stooped 
down  and  peered  under  the  dead,  shade-killed 
branches.  A  large  brown  bear  was  ambling  across 
his  trail,  and  he  turned  and  looked  at  Scotty  as  soon 
as  the  boy  saw  him ! 

Scotty  eyed  him,  breathlessly,  the  blood  freezing 
in  his  veins.  His  shotgun  held  nothing  but  eights, 
and,  except  at  very  close  range,  they  would  do  no 
more  than  sting  the  bear  into  a  rage.  A  mad  im- 
pulse to  dash  forward  and  make  it  close  range  seized 
him;  but  fear,  the  reluctance  to  venture  into  some- 
thing where  he  could  not  see  the  finish,  rooted  him 
uncertainly  to  the  spot.  Suddenly,  with  a  startled 
Woof!  the  bear  wheeled  and  raced  off  through  the 
timber. 

"  Grizzly !  Gosh, —  it's  a  grizzly !  "  whispered 
Scotty  to  himself,  his  teeth  chattering  with  excite- 
ment. Should  he  go  back  to  where  he  had  left  his 
horse  and  get  the  rifle,  or  else  the  Colt  lying  in  its 

52 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

saddle  holster  ?  Might  as  well  give  the  bear  up  for- 
ever as  do  that !  He  must  after  him,  and  make  good 
with  the  shotgun,  somehow !  He  pushed  on,  warily, 
an  old  gunner's  trick  coming  to  mind.  If  you  cut  a 
shot  cartridge  nearly  through  the  paper,  just  above 
the  powder  wad,  it  practically  makes  a  slug  of  the 
shot  charge,  so  that  it  will  carry  a  hundred  yards 
without  spreading.  Scotty  whipped  out  his  hunting 
knife  and  quickly  fixed  two  of  his  shells  that  way, 
and  then  slipped  them  back  into  the  gun  and  pushed 
on  to  where  the  bear  was  last  seen.  The  tracks  in 
the  snow  showed  he  was  a  big  one;  should  he  risk 
following?  Persistence  was  the  red-haired  lad's 
best  bet. 

"  Gee !  We  Scots  are  blame  poor  starters  —  but, 
by  gum,  we're  everlasting  strong  finishers !  "  Scotty 
said  to  himself,  the  pride  of  race  aiding  his  resolu- 
tion. He  recalled  all  he  had  heard  of  grizzlies.  The 
frightened  way  in  which  this  fellow  had  made  off 
hardly  tallied  up  with  Old  Eph's  reputation  for 
careless,  rugged  indifference,  but  then  the  animal  was 
brown  —  and  he  might  even  be  the  Ring-Necked 
Grizzly  himself !  To  tackle  him  with  a  twenty-bore 
shotgun  —  whoops!  thought  Scotty.  A  grizzly  can 
run  faster  than  a  horse;  it  would  take  him  just  six 

S3 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

seconds  to  charge  a  hundred  yards,  he  calculated. 

But  the  boy  pushed  on,  silently,  keeping  a  sharp 
watch  ahead.  He  was  not  going  back  to  the  pack 
train  with  any  story  of  passing  up  a  real  bear!  He 
wormed  his  way  through  the  thick  pines,  pitched 
noiselessly  down  into  a  deep  ravine  —  and,  sud- 
denly, with  a  grunt  and  a  roar  and  a  crashing  of 
sticks  through  the  forest,  the  bear  burst  out  of  a 
thicket  of  alders  and  spruces  and  galloped  off  up  the 
ravine  flank.  With  thumping  heart,  Scotty  planted 
the  tubes  on  his  shoulder  and  pulled  trigger.  The 
bear  bawled  out,  spun  about  on  a  broken  foreleg, 
and,  with  a  squall  of  rage  charged  down  the  slope 
at  Scotty,  his  muzzle  a  hideous  snarl,  his  little  pig 
eyes  glaring  malevolently.  Never  had  Scotty  seen 
such  a  diabolical,  murderous  expression  on  any  liv- 
ing creature's  face,  and  an  irresistible  impulse  to 
turn  and  fly  seized  him.  He  was  shaking  like  a 
leaf  and,  try  as  he  would,  the  gun  muzzle  danced 
about  uncontrollable.  To  miss  with  his  last  barrel 
would  be  fatal ! 

The  bear  hitched  along  on  three  legs,  squalling 
and  grunting  fiercely,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Scotty,  who 
stood  rooted  to  the  spot,  spellbound.  He  did  not 
know  that  he  was  the  victim  of  the  same  fear  with 

54 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

which  the  bear  paralyzes  the  fleet  deer  with  his  at- 
tack, but,  just  for  an  instant  the  bear  turned  his 
head  slightly,  to  hitch  over  a  fallen  tree,  and  in  that 
instant  Scotty,  released  from  the  spell,  drove  home 
his  second  shot.  It  knocked  the  bear  down  behind 
the  log,  and  Scotty  hastily  slipped  in  two  plain  shells, 
dashed  up  on  the  log  and  put  in  another  charge  of 
bird  shot,  close  behind  the  ear.  Later  he  found  it, 
a  solid  mass  embedded  in  the  bone,  when  he  skinned 
the  bear  out. 

With  a  flurry  and  a  grunt  and  a  gasping  sigh,  the 
life  went  out,  and  the  bear  lay  still  on  the  snow,  while 
Scotty,  wild  with  joy,  capered  and  danced  and  sang 
on  the  log.  His  reaction  was  fairly  delirious.  He 
had  put  his  manhood  to  the  proof,  and  had  won  out! 
Nothing  could  ever  take  that  memory  away  from 
him,  and  all  through  life  it  would  come  back  to  him, 
to  strengthen  him  whenever  his  courage  would  be 
called  upon !  Scotty  glanced  down  again  and  again 
at  the  glossy  brown  pelt,  and  yelled  with  triumph  at 
each  gloat. 

"  Yaas,  sonny,  yo're  havin'  a  deuce  of  a  fine  party 
all  by  yourself  down  there ! "  called  out  a  voice. 
"  Thought  you'd  never  git  through  shootin'  them 
chickens !  "  it  called  sarcastically. 

55 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Scotty  looked  up,  to  see  Big  John,  sitting  calmly 
on  Blaze,  his  rifle  across  his  lap.  How  long  he  had 
been  there  the  boy  could  only  guess.  "  Chickens  1 " 
he  shouted  angrily.  "I  got  a  grizzly!  Come  on 
down  and  see  him !  " 

"Well,  I  want  to  know!"  drawled  Big  John, 
easing  Blaze  down  the  slope.  "  Thet  ain't  no  griz- 
zly; thet's  a  leetle  black  bear,  sonny,"  he  called. 
"  Yaas,  I  seen  ye,  pokin'  him  with  thar  popgun, — 
scairt  to  death,  you  war, —  but  ye  didn't  run !  Gosh, 
but  you  wanted  to,  all  right ! "  he  chuckled,  reining 
up  Blaze.  "  Nice  pelt,  kid." 

"Yes,  but  it's  brown;  it's  a  grizzly!"  persisted 
Scotty  eagerly. 

"  Yaas  —  color  phase  of  the  black  bear,  son," 
grinned  Big  John  indulgently.  "  Ef  you  hed  hit 
OF  Eph  with  that  thar  popgun,  an'  he'd  ever  found 
it  out,  he'd-a  came  back  an'  spanked  you  with  it! 
See  thet  muzzle,  an'  them  ears  ?  —  them's  black  bear, 
boy ;  we  even  gits  a  white  black  bear  occasionally." 

But  Scotty  didn't  care.  For  him  it  had  been  a 
grizzly,  so  far  as  having  to  face  the  animal  with 
a  shotgun  mattered,  and  he  had  produced  his  neces- 
sary grit  and  courage  to  go  up  against  it.  All  joy- 
ous laugh  and  chatter,  he  helped  Big  John  skin  out 

56 


OVER  THE  CONTINENTAL  DIVIDE 

the  trophy,  and  then,  with  it  lashed  proudly  to  his 
cantle,  they  crossed  the  valley  and  rode  up  to  the 
waiting  pack  train. 

As  the  sun  set  through  boiling  mists  over  the  Pa- 
cific valleys,  the  tired  men  and  horses  slid  and  stum- 
bled on  down  into  the  giant  timber  below  snow  line. 
There  was  no  sound  but  the  thud  of  horses'  hoofs  in 
the  soft  forest  duff,  and  the  occasional  crack  of  a 
dead  sapling  as  it  was  overborne  by  the  unwieldy 
packs. 

"  Waal,  hyar's  Seven-mile  Spring,  boys !  "  called 
Big  John  at  length,  reining  up  Blaze.  "  Up  with  the 
pup  tent,  fellers,  while  I  turn  out  them  hosses." 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

IT  seemed  odd  to  find  such  a  total  change  in  cli- 
mate as  they  found  on  the  Pacific  side  of  the 
Divide.  The  boys  crawled  out  of  the  pup  tent 
on  the  following  morning  to  find  the  air  balmy  and 
the  sun  shining,  whereas  yesterday  they  had  left  bit- 
ter winter  weather  behind  them  to  the  east.  A  big 
thaw  had  melted  off  much  of  the  snow,  and  the 
ground  showed  through  in  places.  The  horses 
feasted  on  elk  park  pawing,  and  required  much  rop- 
ing before  they  would  consent  to  being  packed  once 
more.  Seven-mile  Spring  was  a  mere  swampy  spot, 
under  giant  Englemann  spruces,  whence  led  out  a 
tiny  rill  of  clear  water.  The  steep  slopes  of  the 
mountains  were  densely  covered  with  spruce  and 
lodgepole  pine,  and  the  trail  led  down  as  between  a 
wall  of  trees.  Down  its  precipitous  slopes  slid  and 
scrambled  Big  John  and  the  two  boys,  holding  back 
against  the  bridles  of  their  horses,  for  it  was  impos- 
sible to  ride.  They  descended  rapidly,  the  moun- 
tains towering  higher  and  higher  above  them,  and 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

then  the  trail  turned  abruptly,  and  led  out  along  the 
flank  of  a  mountain  meadow. 

From  there  it  skirted  along  the  mountain  flanks 
for  four  miles,  gradually  descending  to  the  great 
valley,  with  the  white  peaks  extending  in  long 
ridges  for  twenty  miles,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
northward.  Then  the  trail  turned  abruptly  down- 
ward, and  they  came  into  the  flat  valley  bottom  of 
Big  River.  Here  were  tall  spruces  and  balsams,  so 
densely  packed  that  their  trunks  made  a  gray  mass, 
with  shade-killed,  drooping  branches  hanging  down, 
which  slapped  and  tore  at  them  as  they  rode,  forcing 
them  to  shove  the  horses  off  from  the  trees  to  keep 
them  from  taking  off  a  leg  at  the  knee. 

They  reached  a  low,  grassy  flat,  with  the  river 
winding  placidly  round  a  bend,  and  here  Big  John 
halted  the  train.  "  Here  we  are,  boys,  an'  up  goes 
the  rag  house!  I  plenty  do  smell  snow!  Shore, 
I'll  have  to  put  on  my  fleece-lined  suspenders,  ef  it 
gits  any  colder !  "  he  laughed. 

They  unpacked  the  animals,  and  the  boys  set  out 
with  the  axes  to  fell  and  bring  in  eight  long  three- 
inch  lodgepole  pines  with  which  to  put  up  the  wall- 
tent  of  the  base  camp.  This  was  a  nine-by-fifteen 
duck  canvas  tent,  with  holes  in  the  ends  through 

59 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

which  to  slip  the  ridge  pole,  and  another  hole,  as- 
bestos-lined, for  the  tent  stove-pipe.  With  a  pair  of 
stout  shears,  made  of  two  lodgepole  pines  each,  to 
support  the  ridge  at  either  end,  the  "  rag  house  " 
went  up,  and  its  eave  ropes  were  lashed  out  to  two 
horizontal  poles  running  along  each  side.  Then  the 
walls  were  pegged  down  with  stout  pegs  that  re- 
quired man's-sized  driving  into  the  duff, — "  fer 
we're  agoin'  to  have  three  foot  o'  snow  afore  we 
gits  out,  an*  I  don't  want  no  pegs  pullin*  out  when 
the  weight  of  the  snow  gits  heavy  on  the  tent,"  as 
Big  John  put  it. 

The  pup  tent  was  set  up,  and  all  the  provisions  and 
saddles  stored  in  it;  a  fire  was  got  going  in  the  "  pig," 
as  the  boys  named  the  tent  stove,  and  plenty  more 
firewood  was  cut  and  stored,  outside ;  and  then  the 
party  turned  in,  completely  settled  for  a  long  stay, 
and  ready  for  what  might  come. 

On  the  next  morning  they  awoke,  to  find  the  world 
all  snowy  white  outside.  Six  inches  of  snow  had 
fallen  during  the  night  and  the  forest  was  filled 
with  the  big  flakes,  whirling  down  endlessly.  Bun- 
dling into  fleece-lined  canvas  coats  and  belting  on 
their  camp  axes  outside,  the  boys  looked  to  their 
emergency  kits,  grabbed  up  their  rifles  and  were  off 

60 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

for  an  exploring  tour  of  their  new  domain.  The 
soft  crunch  of  snow  under  foot,  the  white,  droop- 
ing, snow-laden  branches  of  the  spruces  filling  the 
vistas  with  a  maze  of  whiteness,  the  soft  ceaseless 
sift  of  big  white  snowflakes,  made  it  seem  like  eter- 
nal Christmas  to  them.  Sid,  whose  forceful,  domi- 
nant character  rejoiced  in  battles  with  the  elements, 
enjoyed  it  hugely,  striking  off  for  himself  up  the 
mountain  slope,  forcing  his  way  through  untracked 
thickets  and  over  rocky  barriers  and  laughing  at  the 
tiny  avalanches  of  snow  that  showered  down  on  the 
broad  rim  of  his  Stetson. 

Scotty,  more  backward  and  less  self-confident, 
confined  himself  to  the  valley,  where  he  knew  he 
couldn't  get  lost,  and  he  went  into  the  venture  half 
expecting  an  elk  behind  every  spruce,  or  a  grizzly 
to  charge  out  from  every  pine  thicket.  He  fol- 
lowed some  hoof  tracks  for  a  mile  or  so,  not  notic- 
ing in  his  eagerness  that,  though  round,  they  were 
not  cloven,  and  finally  came  up  with  one  of  their 
own  pack  animals ! 

"  Horse  tracks !  —  you  sure  are  a  dub !  "  he  kicked 
himself.  "  Darn  it,  what  you  need  is  a  nurse !  " 

Chagrined  at  his  own  stupidity,  Scotty  was  con- 
tent to  experiment  with  his  emergency  ration,  cook- 

61 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ing  a  meal  on  a  small  fire  built  on  the  snow,  with  a 
foundation  of  small  cut  logs  to  keep  it  from  melting 
itself  down  and  out,  and  so  he  got  back  to  camp  be- 
fore nightfall. 

Meanwhile,  Sid  climbed  on  upward,  singing  with 
joy  as  wider  and  wider  panoramas  of  the  mountains 
opened  out  before  him.  Instinct  told  him  that  the 
elk  would  be  found  high  up  near  timber  line,  keeping 
out  of  the  lower  valleys  which  were  full  of  bears. 
He  ranged  along  contentedly,  mapping  out  the  lay 
of  the  land,  and  committing  it  to  memory  for  future 
use.  It  did  not  worry  him  in  the  least  to  have  a 
thousand  miles  all  to  himself  to  wander  in,  with  Big 
John  and  Scotty  and  an  unseen  Government  ranger 
the  only  human  beings  anywhere  within  forty  miles 
of  him.  He  was  fast  becoming  husky  and  rugged, 
as  do  most  boys  after  typhoid,  and  he  rejoiced  in  his 
returning  strength  and  exercised  it  with  zest. 

Then  —  he  stopped  suddenly  and  froze  in  his 
tracks,  for  there,  in  a  small  mountain  park  under  the 
crags,  stood  a  large  brown  shape!  It  was  an  elk, 
standing  patiently  under  a  spruce  while  the  snow- 
flakes  whirled  down  outside  its  protecting  branches. 

"  Gorry !  "  muttered  Sid,  as  the  rifle  bead  hung 
for  an  instant  on  the  long  brown  neck.  Then  came 

62 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

the  ripping  crash  of  the  rifle,  echoed  solemnly  down 
the  long  line  of  peaks,  and  the  elk  dropped,  thrashed 
about  for  a  moment  with  his  hoofs,  and  lay  still. 
Sid  threw  in  another  cartridge  and  walked  over 
cautiously.  "  Dead  "  elk  had  been  known,  before, 
to  rise  again  and  charge  their  hunters  at  close  range ! 
But  this  one  never  moved.  He  was  but  a  spike- 
horn,  as  Sid  noticed  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment, 
but  he  knew  that  Big  John  would  be  overjoyed,  be- 
cause of  the  fresh,  tender  meat. 

:<  You  poor  thing !  "  he  soliloquized,  looking  down 
at  the  big  carcass.  "  Nice  neck  shot!  The  old  .35 
smashed  the  spinal  vertebrae  like  an  ax." 

He  stuck  up  his  bandanna  tied  to  a  stick  over  the 
carcass,  to  keep  off  wolves  and  small  prowlers,  and 
then  set  out  down  the  mountain,  arriving  soaked  to 
the  thighs  from  plowing  through  the  snow. 

"Hi,  old-timer!  You  wet,  too?"  Big  John 
greeted  him,  "  A  man'll  as  soon  wade  through 
Hades  on  wax  legs  aa  go  through  thet  snow  'thout 
getti-n'  wet.  What'd  ye  git?  " 

"  Spikehorn  —  up  yonder,"  waved  Sid  nonchal- 
antly. "  Old  meat-in-the-^pot,  here,  got  her  in  one 
shot,"  he  added,  patting  the  major's  rifle. 

"Well,   I'll  be  darned!"   ejaculated  Big  John. 

63 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  To-morrow  we'll  go  up  an'  git  down  the  meat,  an' 
I'll  show  you  boys  how  to  run  a  jerky  frame." 

On  the  next  day  the  three  set  out  up  the  mountain, 
flanking  the  elk  from  three  sides  with  ready  rifles,  in 
case  a  bear  should  have  visited  the  carcass.  Noth- 
ing, save  a  clicking  porcupine  who  made  off  up  a 
tree,  had  visited  the  carcass,  however,  and,  drawing 
their  hunting  knives,  they  set  to  work  at  the  stiff 
and  unwieldy  hide. 

"  Yo'  boys  make  three  skinning  spuds  of  green 
balsam,  while  I  cut  her  open,"  directed  Big  John,  and 
soon  all  three  were  prying  off  the  thick  robe  with 
digs  and  prods  of  the  spadelike  wooden  spuds.  The 
flesh  inside  was  still  soft,  and  they  cut  it  off  in  slabs 
and  chunks  of  brawn,  reserving  the  two  long  tender- 
loins, cut  off  each  side  of  the  backbone,  for  future 
steaks. 

"  When  that  thar  carciss  gits  to  risin',  we'll  have 
b'ar  around  heah  like  flies  around  a  sugar  bowl," 
opined  Big  John,  as  they  left  -the  raw  carcass  to  its 
lonely  crags  and  boulders. 

It  had  taken  all  that  day  to  cut  the  meat  and  pack 
it  down  the  mountain  to  camp,  and  still  the  snow 
came  down.  It  had  reached  eighteen  inches  in  depth 
and  there  was  no  sign  of  abatement  of  the  big  sticky 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

flakes.  Sid  and  Scotty  went  out  each  day,  explor- 
ing, but  not  a  sign  of  a  track  marked  the  white 
blanket  of  the  snow. 

"  The'  ain't  no  use  huntin'  till  this  snow  lets  up," 
declared  Big  John.  "Them  elk  is  jest  standin' 
round  under  spruces  so  thick  that  you'd  never  find 
'em,  and  thar  won't  be  no  tracks  till  the  snow  lets 
up."  He  had  finished  his  jerky  frame,  built  of 
pine  poles  under  the  spruces  near  camp,  and  from  it 
had  hung  long  strips  of  elk  meat,  each  well  rubbed 
with  allspice.  A  small  fire  of  willow  and  birch  kept 
the  meat  hot  enough  to  be  constantly  drying  but  not 
so  hot  as  to  cook. 

"  When  they  gets  so's  to  sweat  leetle  draps  o'  fat 
an'  is  dry  as  chips,  they'll  be  done,  and  they'll  keep 
so  long  as  ye  want  'em,"  he  explained.  The  meat 
brought  down  from  the  mountain  had  weighed  more 
than  five  hundred  pounds;  when  the  last  of  it  came 
off  the  frame,  it  all  went  into  two  hundred-pound 
sacks. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  snow  stopped  and  the  sun 
came  out.  Big  John  and  Sid  went  up  the  mountain 
to  look  at  the  elk  carcass  and  get  on  the  track  of  a 
bear  if  possible,  while  Scotty  set  off  by  himself  up 
the  valley.  Game  tracks  in  bewildering  abundance 

65 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

crossed  his  trail;  deer,  snowshoe  hare,  mink,  wolf, 
now  and  then  the  great  pugs  of  a  bear  full  of  snow, 
showing  that  they  had  been  up  and  about  during  the 
storm,  and  occasionally  a  fresh  elk  track,  with  more 
or  less  snow  in  it.  Scotty  noticed  that  they  gener- 
ally crossed  the  valley  and  went  up  the  mountains. 

"  I'm  through  with  this  valley  hunting!  "  he  de- 
clared bitterly  to  himself  at  length.  "  The  elk  are 
all  up  in  the  hills,  and  the  bears  have  followed  them, 
I'm  thinking." 

He  started  up  a  ravine  grown  up  with  alders,  and 
immediately  out  of  it  jumped  two  ruffed  grouse. 
They  lit  in  a  big  spruce,  calling,  "  Peentl  Peent! 
Peent! "  and  craning  their  necks  like  fool-hens. 

Scotty  opened  the  rifle  and  slid  out  the  heavy  car- 
tridge, substituting  his  steel  supplementary  with  its 
small  .32-20  cartridge.  At  the  sharp  report,  the 
grouse  fluttered  down  to  the  snow.  Scotty  ran  for- 
ward to  retrieve  it  —  came  around  back  of  the  spruce 
—  and  there,  in  the  snow,  were  the  tracks  of  an  elk ! 
Fresh,  hot,  and  so  recent  were  they  that  the  snow 
was  yellow  in  them,  and  a  faint  mist  and  a  musky 
scent  came  to  his  nostrils  as  he  bent  over  them. 

"  Fool !  —  And  he  was  standing  right  here,  under 
this  spruce,  and  I  never  saw  him ! "  gritted  Scotty, 

66 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

reproaching  himself  bitterly.  "  After  him  —  by 
gum!" 

The  tracks  were  a  yard  apart  in  a  straight  line, 
and  they  spurted  up  little  plumes  of  fresh  snow  at 
every  step.  Scotty  pressed  on  ardently.  The  way 
zigzagged  up  the  mountainside,  and  Scotty  noted  a 
green,  spruce-covered  young  Allegheny  coming  up 
between  him  and  his  valley,  but  he  plowed  on  re- 
gardless of  getting  lost.  Now  and  then  he  would 
come  to  pairs  of  tracks  with  yellow  sweat  in  them, 
where  the  elk  had  stood  there,  looking  back  and 
watching  him  below  coming  after.  Soon  they  led 
on  above  timber  line  and  crossed  rocky  slopes,  steep 
and  slippery  and  dangerous.  Then  they  turned  into 
a  country  of  giant  firs  a  hundred  feet  tall,  and  Scotty 
plowed  on,  completely  lost,  but  persistent  as  ever. 
They  led  him  around  a  brink  of  an  avalanche  basin, 
with  the  steeps  above  so  sharp  as  to  afford  no  foot- 
hold and  a  fall  of  hundreds  of  feet  yawning  below 
if  he  should  slip,  but  warily  he  felt  his  way  along, 
clinging  to  bushes  and  stumps  that  overhung  the 
edge. 

He  heard  a  squirrel  scolding  on  ahead  of  him. 
As  the  squirrel  couldn't  see  him,  he  must  be  chatter- 
ing at  the  elk,  Scotty  decided.  He  pushed  on  war- 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ily,  came  down  to  a  little  valley  full  of  thick  timber, 
and  then,  with  a  sudden  crash  in  the  underbrush  — 
there  was  his  elk,  trotting  through  a  maze  of  small 
trees  and  crossing  him  at  right  angles ! 

With  pounding  heart  Scotty  raised  the  rifle,  and 
followed  the  dim  brown  form,  fearful  to  fire  lest  a 
twig  might  deflect  the  bullet.  He  picked  out  a  small 
opening  through  some  birches,  swung  the  rifle  ahead 
and  waited  until  a  brown  patch  came  whizzing 
through  the  gap.  How  fast  he  was  going!  He 
pulled  the  trigger,  and  at  the  report  the  elk  burst 
into  a  mad  gallop,  and  Scotty,  reloading  frantically, 
slipped  off  some  alder  roots  under  foot  and  sprawled 
into  four  feet  of  snow ! 

"  Missed  him !  Missed  an  elk  as  big  as  a  cow  — 
at  seventy  yards ! "  groaned  Scotty,  appalled,  pick- 
ing himself  up  ruefully  and  trying  to  get  a  bead  on 
the  vanishing  legs  of  the  elk.  It  seemed  unbeliev- 
able, and  it  took  all  the  confidence  out  of  him.  Dis- 
consolately he  tramped  over  to  where  the  elk  track 
crossed  the  gap. 

"  Not  a  drop  of  blood !  Missed  him  —  dag-gone 
it !  "  he  almost  wept,  kicking  himself  with  chagrin. 
"  And  —  where  am  I  ?  Lost,  I  suppose !  Well," 
he  remarked,  getting  out  his  compass,  "  this  brook 

68 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

down  below  ought  to  tell  me ;  it  should  —  it  must 
flow  west,  to  reach  Big  River." 

He  tracked  down  the  mountain  slope  and  tried 
out  his  compass  at  the  brookside.  The  needle 
showed  it  flowed  south !  "  Why  it  can't  go  south, 
you  know !  That's  all  uphill,  and  Big  River  rises  in 
the  south.  Gosh!" 

But  the  compass  said  so,  and  it  was  not  to  be  quar- 
reled with ! 

"  Well,  up  this  mountain  to  the  west,  for  mine !  " 
decided  Scotty  doggedly.  "  Darn  the  brook !  Any- 
how, I've  got  no  time  to  puzzle  it  out." 

He  started  laboriously  up  the  steep  slopes  of  the 
mountain.  It  was  utterly  unfamiliar  to  him,  and 
by  the  time  he  had  reached  its  crest  it  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  and  he  was  on  a  great  table  land,  crowded 
with  immense  spruces.  It  was  a  wonderful  game 
country,  with  wolf  and  deer  and  elk  tracks  crossing 
every  which  way,  and  around  the  spruce  bases  were 
rings  of  elk  tracks  where  they  had  yarded  up  during 
the  storm  —  but  Scotty  would  have  given  them  all 
for  one  human  track,  just  then ! 

"  Looks  like  a  case  of  den  up  for  the  night  in  the 
snow.  I'll  build  me  a  browse  lean-to  and  a  fire," 
he  muttered,  patting  his  belt  ax  and  feeling 

69 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

for  the  emergency  kit  in  his  pocket  to  reassure  him- 
self. 

And  then  he  stopped,  transfixed!  A  fresh  track, 
of  a  monster  elk,  crossed  in  front  of  him!  Seven 
inches  long  at  least,  it  was,  and  he  could  lay  his 
whole  hand  in  it ! 

"  A  seven-pointer !  A  whale !  "  gasped  Scotty. 
"  The  dickens  with  being  lost  —  I'm  going  to  get 
this  bird!" 

He  turned  and  followed,  panting  with  excitement 
as  he  floundered  along  in  the  deep  snow.  The  track 
led  into  a  windfall  of  lodgepole  pines,  in  which 
Scotty  wallowed  in  snow  up  to  his  neck.  The  elk 
had  negotiated  it  in  long  easy  steps,  leaping  clean 
over  the  fallen  trunks.  Then  he  had  turned  along 
a  spur  of  the  mountain,  and  Scotty  found  himself 
plodding  through  the  snow  in  a  deep  valley,  with 
a  brook  roaring  somewhere  down  in  the  depths. 
Now  the  ridges  of  a  cross-track  showed,  coming  up 
the  slope  ahead,  and  Scotty's  heart  rose,  and  his  face 
brightened.  Another  human,  a  hunter,  no  doubt! 
and,  even  if  he  had  cut  in  ahead  and  perhaps  had 
bagged  the  elk,  it  would  be  a  fellow  man,  at  any  rate ! 

He  followed  along,  and  presently  stooped  over 
the  tracks.  They  were  enormous,  for  a  human  — 

70 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

fourteen  inches  long,  at  least,  and  he  could  lay  his 
whole  hat  in  any  one  of  them.  He  bent  down,  and 
there,  deep  in  the  snow  at  the  bottom  of  the  track, 
were  the  marks  of  immense  claws,  while  sweeping 
lines  in  the  snow  told  of  the  drag  of  icicle-covered 
hair! 

An  electric  thrill  shot  through  Scotty.  "  Grizzly ! 
An  old  he-one! "  he  breathed,  as  the  old  doubts  and 
fears  rose  in  him  like  a  whirlpool  of  evil  spirits. 
"  And  —  he's  after  my  elk,  by  gorry !  " 

He  swung  after  the  double  track,  which  now  led 
along  the  spur,  trending  gradually  upward.  "  Well 
—  my  legs  aren't  cowardly,  at  any  rate !  "  he  laughed 
to  himself  nervously,  as  he  slipped  out  the  clip  of 
soft-nose  bullets  for  elk  and  put  one  of  full  metal 
patch  for  bear  into  the  magazine.  The  going  grew 
wilder,  as  the  trail  climbed  higher  and  higher.  Up 
ahead  of  him  showed  the  snowy  peaks  of  the  high 
mountains,  above  timber  line,  and  then  the  forest 
opened  out  abruptly,  and  he  was  in  a  land  of  burnt 
and  twisted  skeletons  of  trees,  where  a  forest  fire 
had  swept  through,  and  the  place  was  all  littered  with 
huge  boulders  and  cut  up  with  ravines. 

With  ready  rifle,  Scotty  clambered  up  a  steep  ra- 
vine bank  and  peered  out  over  the  top  of  a  boulder. 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

He  was  looking  into  a  sort  of  boulder  park,  with  the 
white  peaks  all  around  it  in  a  kind  of  amphitheater. 

There  was  his  elk,  at  bay !  And,  circling  around 
him,  a  huge  grizzly!  Not  a  sound  came  from  the 
two  as  the  elk  wheeled  about,  presenting  his  great 
seven-tined  antlers  always  at  the  circling  bear.  Then 
a  faint  rumble  came  from  the  latter,  at  the  distance 
of  perhaps  a  hundred  yards,  and  he  charged  vi- 
ciously, slashing  with  lightning-like  strokes  under 
the  elk-tines,  but  the  latter  was  as  quick  to  ward  him 
off.  The  bear  wheeled  and  rose  on  his  haunches, 
and  Scotty  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  broad  white  collar 
under  his  throat !  The  hair  bristled  on  the  back  of 
his  neck  with  the  thrill  of  it  —  it  was  the  Ring- 
Necked  Grizzly,  himself! 

On  the  instant,  the  elk  whistled  his  challenging 
bugle  and  charged.  The  great  bear  went  over  with 
a  hoarse  snarl,  snapping  with  glistening  jaws,  and 
clawing  with  all  four  feet  at  once.  Out  of  the  swift 
roll  of  the  two  huge  bodies  shot  up  a  hairy  forearm 
over  the  elk's  withers,  and  a  bawl  of  pain  mingled 
with  the  ferocious  roars  of  the  conquering  bear. 
Thrashing  his  antlers  wildly  over  his  back,  the  elk 
went  down,  with  the  grizzly  biting  fiercely  for  a 
vital  spot  in  the  neck  mane,  and  Scotty,  too  wildly 

72 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

excited  himself  to  worry  over  the  foolhardiness  of 
tackling  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly  alone  with  an 
Army  Springfield,  planted  the  bead  on  the  confused 
gray  mass  and  fired.  The  sharp  spang  of  the  rifle 
echoed  back  from  the  cliffs,  and  the  elk  heaved  to 
his  feet,  trumpeted  forth  a  wild  agonized  moan,  stag- 
gered, and  toppled  over,  with  the  grizzly  still  strik- 
ing at  him. 

Scotty  yanked  down  the  lever  and  fired  again,  this 
time  aiming  carefully  at  the  grizzly's  shoulder.  The 
bullet  struck  far  back,  and  the  bear  whirled,  biting 
savagely  at  a  wound  in  his  ham.  Then  he  reared 
up  and  roared  angry  defiance.  A  third  time  Scotty 
reloaded,  and  tried  to  hold  quiet  the  jerky  bead  on 
the  distant,  dim  gray  mark.  At  the  shot  the  grizzly 
challenged,  dropped  on  all  fours,  and  charged  with 
the  rage  of  a  conquering,  predatory  beast  disturbed 
at  his  kill. 

"  Missed  again ! "  gasped  Scotty,  with  sinking 
heart.  "  I  just  gotta  stop  him  this  time!  " 

Over  the  boulders,  straight  on,  galloped  the  bear, 
ringing  the  echoes  again  and  again  with  his  hoarse, 
menacing  roar.  Scotty  slipped  behind  a  rock  and 
rested  the  rifle  barrel  over  it,  holding  down  the  bead 
with  all  his  strength.  When  quite  sure  that  it  bore 

73 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

full  on  the  bear's  chest,  he  pulled  the  trigger,  and 
with  a  blow  that  nearly  stunned  his  hand,  the  rifle 
whipped  up  off  the  solid  granite  and  the  shot  went 
high !  Old  Ring-Neck  was  scarcely  sixty  yards  off, 
now,  and  he  was  charging  to  kill ! 

"  Gotta  stand  up  and  take  it !  "  the  thought  flashed 
through  Scotty's  mind,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  and 
fired  the  instant  the  bead  showed  over  the  brown. 
The  bullet  hit  somewhere,  for  Ring  Neck  let  out  an 
angry  squeal  of  pain,  but  he  came  on  faster  than 
ever. 

A  panic  seized  Scotty ;  he  could  not  stand  and  risk 
his  last  shot  at  close  quarters.  Firing  half  at  ran- 
dom, he  made  for  the  nearest  live  spruce  and  forced 
his  way  up  it.  The  trunk  was  too  big  to  climb 
against  the  drooping,  dead,  shade-killed  under- 
branches,  and  he  had  just  time  to  set  the  rifle  against 
the  tree,  step  up  on  its  muzzle  and  jump  for  the 
nearest  large  stub,  when  the  bear  came  up. 

His  impact  was  terrific.  With  snarling  fangs 
and  fierce,  deep  grunts  of  rage,  he  tore  away  the 
lower  branches,  and  Scotty's  heart  stopped  as  he 
began  making  headway  up  after  him.  Grizzlies 
couldn't  climb  trees,  he  had  always  thought,  but  this 
one  was  doing  it !  The  truth  of  the  old  adage  came, 

74 


A  SEVEN-POINT  ELK 

though,  the  next  instant  when  the  dead  lower 
branches  gave  way  with  a  crash,  and  Ring-Neck 
tumbled  to  the  ground  with  a  howl  of  fury.  Again 
and  again  he  leapt  up,  clawing  at  the  spruce  and 
falling  back,  eyeing  the  boy  malevolently,  and  the 
latter  looked  down  at  him,  wild-eyed,  at  his  wits*  end 
what  to  do  next. 

Finally  the  bear  sat  down  and  licked  his  wounds 
morosely.  The  one  in  the  ham,  Scotty  noted,  bled 
rather  freely,  but  the  other  in  the  foreleg  was  but  a 
mere  touch,  and,  for  all  practical  purposes,  old  Ring- 
Neck  was  unhurt. 

"  Not  one  good  hit  in  five  shots ! "  whimpered 
Scotty  dejectedly.  "I've  got  no  nerve  —  that's  the 
matter  with  me !  "  he  stormed.  "  Well,  I'll  get  some 
nerve;  grow  some,  if  need  be  —  if  I've  got  to  kill 
this  grizzly  barehanded  to  do  it ! "  he  raged,  his 
Scotch  stubbornness  bursting  out. 

The  bear,  for  answer,  sent  up  a  snort  of  defiance 
and  circled  around  the  spruce,  now  and  then  rising 
up  and  sniffing  with  his  funny,  piglike  muzzle.  He 
had  persistence,  too,  as  great  as  Scotty's,  the  boy 
realized,  and  he  would  camp  out  there  for  days,  if 
necessary. 

And  over  in  the  west  the  sun  had  set  behind  the 

75 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Main  Chain,  while  blue  shadows  filled  the  boulder 
park,  and  slowly  the  high  clouds  overhead  turned  to 
red,  orange,  purple,  lavender,  and  then  dull  lead 
color. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

BIG  JOHN  and  Sid  scaled  the  steep,  snowy 
slopes  of  the  mountain,  on  their  way  up  to 
that  lonely  ravine  under  the  cliffs  where  lay 
the  carcass  of  the  spikehorn. 

"  We  shore  oughtta  git  a  b'ar  this  time,  son/'  ad- 
vised Big  John,  helping  Sid  up  an  almost  perpendic- 
ular shelf  of  rock,  "  thet  carciss'll  be  gittin'  kinder 
high  and  whiffy  by  now,  an'  all  the  b'ars  in  Big 
River'U  be  comin'  upwind  after  it" 

"Can't  come  too  soon  for  me!"  declared  Sid, 
jamming  his  screw  calks  into  the  slide  rock. 
"  Scotty's  one  ahead,  as  it  is.  Nervy  thing  for  him 
to  do,  wasn't  it,  John,  going  up  against  a  grizzly  — 
that's  what  he  thought  it  was  —  with  a  twenty-bore 
popgun  — " 

"  Naw  I "  interrupted  Big  John  impatiently. 
"  'Twan't  nervy.  I  seen  th'  hull  thing ;  he  was  scairt 
pie-eyed,  jes'  like  a  cornered  fox  —  hadn't  wits 
enough  to  run,  so  he  kinder  up  an'  plugged  him. 
Now  you,  Sid,  you'd  git  ice-cold,  an'  'tend  strictly 

77 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

to  yer  shoo  tin',  an'  the  nearer  that  oP  comatabody 
got  to  ye,  the  colder  and  stiddier  ye'd  be.  Scotty's 
got  so  much  nerve  he  ain't  got  none !  "  he  declared 

Sid  flushed  with  pleasure  at  Big  John's  estimate 
of  his  courage,  but  he  hastened  to  defend  his  chum. 
"  You're  wrong  there,  John,"  he  came  back.  "  I've 
known  Scotty  all  my  life,  and,  while  he's  a  poor 
starter,  he's  a  mighty  strong  finisher.  You  get  him 
mad  enough,  and  he'd  tackle  anybody." 

"  Mebbe  so,"  conceded  Big  John.  "  But  in  this 
country  he'd  be  dead  afore  he  ever  got  mad.  Ain't 
no  use  in  gittin'  scairt  of  th'  critters  —  there  ain't 
one  on  'em  can  stand  up  against  a  good  poke  from  a 
modern  rifle.  Just  keep  that  in  yore  mind,  sonny, 
an'  'tend  strictly  to  puttin'  in  yore  shot  whar  it'll 
do  some  good.  I've  seen  sports  in  these  mountains 
git  so  excited  that  they'd  miss  a  bear  as  big  as  a 
cow  at  eighty  yards  —  an'  they  wuz  good  target 
shots,  too." 

They  had  come  up  nearly  to  the  site  of  the  old 
kill,  but,  after  peering  cautiously  over  outlying  boul- 
ders, they  found  the  place  empty  and  deserted. 

"Hi!  — Tracks!  — Lots  on  'em!"  cried  Big 
John,  after  the  first  keen  glance,  and  he  led  the  way 
over  to  the  raw,  bony  carcass. 

78 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

"  Waal,  now  —  that's  funny !  "  he  exclaimed  curi- 
ously, stooping  down  to  peer  into  a  track.  "  Them 
ain't  b'ar  tracks  —  them's  men!"  he  barked. 
"  Moccasins !  Thet's  what  they  is !  One  on  'em's 
an  Injun  —  t'other  wears  moccasins,  but  he  ain't  no 
Injun ;  he  don't  walk  like  one,  nohow !  " 

Mingled  with  their  tracks  of  three  days  ago,  now 
filled  with  snow,  were  fresh  ones,  made  the  day  be- 
fore. Big  John  pushed  up  his  hat  brim  and 
scratched  his  curly  black  locks.  "  Ain't  Jim  Hoge, 
the  Gov'mint  ranger  —  he  wears  cruiser  shoepacs. 
I  dunno  — "  he  bent  down  suddenly  and  pulled  open 
the  clenched  jaws  of  the  spikehorn's  skull. 

"  Elk-tooth  men !  "  he  snarled.  Savage,  avenging 
ferocity  rasped  in  his  tone.  "  Th'  dirty  skunks !  " 
he  gritted,  looking  up  at  Sid. 

The  boy  had  heard  of  the  elk-tooth  hunters  from 
the  major, —  outlaws  who  made  their  living  shooting 
down  the  lordly  elk  and  leaving  carcass  and  antlers 
to  rot,  all  for  the  two  eye-teeth  which  they  cut  out 
and  sold.  The  Government  was  waging  relentless 
war  on  them. 

"  Glad  yo're  with  me,  son,"  said  Big  John,  getting 
up;  "we  gotta  track  them  fellers  down  an'  hev  it 
out  with  them.  Th'  ain't  room  enough  in  this  val- 

79 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ley  f er  us  an'  them  devils  too !  Let's  circle  'raound 
a  piece." 

They  traced  out  the  maze  of  tracks.  Here  the 
Indian  had  followed  their  own  old  tracks  down  the 
mountain  a  ways,  and  had  then  given  it  up  and  re- 
turned. A  complete  circle  finally  told  them  that  the 
two  tracks  led  away  together  toward  a  nest  of  boul- 
ders up  under  the  cliffs. 

"  We'll  jest  work  'round  under  the  hill  an'  come 
up  behind  them  rocks,"  decided  Big  John.  "  Them 
fellers  may  be  a-watchin'  us,  right  now,  for  all  we 
knows." 

They  went  down  their  old  trail,  skirted  under  the 
hill  and  came  up  beyond  the  boulders,  but  in  doing 
so  they  cut  the  men's  trail,  leading  away  from  the 
spot.  The  two  outlaws  had  gone  north  along  the 
ridge,  and  Big  John  and  Sid  followed  cautiously. 
After  a  mile  of  it  they  ran  into  green  timber,  the 
lodgepole  pines  charging  up  the  slopes  like  the  ser- 
ried ranks  of  an  army.  Here  was  a  flat  table  land 
with  great  spruces  crowded  together  thickly  and  hung 
heavy  with  snow,  so  that  they  made  a  white  tracery 
in  the  sunlight 

Here  the  tracks  separated.  "  At  their  rotten  work 
ag'in!  "  grumbled  Big  John.  "  They's  been  slaugh- 

80 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

terin'  the  elk  when  they  wuz  yarded  up  in  the  spruces, 
during  the  storm.  You  take  the  white  man,  an'  I'll 
take  keer  of  th'  Injun.  Watch  out  sharp,  now,  an' 
shoot  quick  ef  they  starts  any  monkey-fiddlin'.  You 
don't  want  to  take  no  chances  with  them  fellers." 

Sid  thrilled  as  he  set  off  along  through  the  snowy 
vistas  of  the  spruces.  It  was  his  first  man  hunt; 
where  human  wits  and  skill  and  cunning,  backed  by 
a  rifle  as  good  as  his  own,  would  be  pitted  against 
him.  Even  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly  himself  seemed 
tame  compared  to  this.  He  pushed  on  cautiously, 
stopping  occasionally  to  look  and  listen.  Somehow 
he  felt  no  fear;  only  excitement,  and  a  cold  anger 
that  would  be  merciless  if  the  outlaws  started  any 
shooting.  Numerous  elk  tracks  crossed  his  trail, 
some  of  them  made  after  the  outlaws  had  passed. 
Time  and  again  the  white  man  had  stopped  and  lis- 
tened, as  his  double  tracks  showed,  and  twice  he 
had  passed  giant  trees,  where  rings  of  tracks  showed 
that  the  elk  had  yarded  here  under  the  shelter  of  the 
snow-clad  branches.  Then,  ahead  of  Sid,  under  a 
clump  of  spruce,  he  perceived  a  brown  shape,  lying 
in  the  snow.  Antlers,  buried  in  the  underbrush,  told 
him  it  was  a  large  bull  elk. 

Step  by  step  the  boy  advanced,  eyes  flashing  war- 
Si 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ily  to  right  and  left,  taking  in  every  least  detail  of 
the  silent,  inscrutable  forest.  But  not  a  sound  broke 
the  stillness,  not  a  form  moved  in  the  snowy  under- 
brush. Then,  a  snowshoe  hare  broke  cover  and 
loped  through  the  brush,  while  Sid's  rifle  instinctively 
covered  it.  Lowering  it,  he  laughed  softly  to  him- 
self. 

"  Nobody  home  around  here,  or  that  bun  wouldn't 
be  there!  "  he  reassured  himself.  He  stepped  up  to 
the  carcass  and  looked  around.  To  the  right  lay 
another,  a  fine  six-pointer,  as  his  antlers  proclaimed, 
and  beyond  him  another,  still  larger. 

"  Gosh!    What  a  shame!  "  he  muttered. 

Then  he  became  aware  of  a  man,  standing  silently 
in  the  underbrush.  An  electric  thrill  shot  through 
him  and  his  rifle  leapt  to  his  shoulder. 

Big  John's  hee-haw  split  the  stillness.  "  Not  bad 
fer  a  yearlin',"  he  called  out;  "  seen  all  three  elk,  and 
the  bun  —  but  ye  never  seen  me  —  I  could  ha*  drilled 
ye  any  time  these  ten  minits." 

They  stood  and  eyed  the  three  silent  carcasses, 
solemnly.  It  hardly  needed  the  streak  of  blood, 
frozen  on  their  lips,  to  tell  that  they  had  all  been 
toothed. 

"  Waal,"  said  Big  John  at  length,  "  they's  goin' 
82 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

t'be  mighty  fine  liT  neck-tie  party  'round  these  parts, 
old  settler!  Them  fellers  went  down  to  the  valley 
from  here.  I  cut  their  two  tracks  gittin'  here. 
Cmon." 

The  way  led  down  the  steep  flanks  and  out  on  a 
bottom  of  lodgepole  pine,  where  the  two  outlaws  had 
crossed  Big  River  on  a  fallen  cedar.  Then  it  worked 
east  —  toward  the  ranger's  clearing ! 

"  Waal  — of  all  the  nerve!  "  exploded  Big  John. 
"  Them  fellers  is  headed  straight  fer  Jim  Hoge's 
cabin!" 

The  trail  wound  straight  across  the  flat,  through 
dense  pines  that  dropped  small  avalanches  of  snow 
down  on  their  hats.  Presently,  a  square,  white 
snow-bank  loomed  up  ahead. 

"  Thet's  the  roof  of  the  cabin,"  whispered  Big 
Johrt  "  Git  yore  rifle  all  ready,  fer  them  fellers 
might  be  up  to  anythinV 

The  cabin  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  forest,  with  a 
small  mountain  meadow  where  horses  could  be 
grazed,  out  beyond  it.  Sid  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  to 
see  open  country  on  ahead ;  —  a  fight  in  these  dense 
pines  would  be  too  full  of  possibilities  for  ambushes 
and  shootings  in  the  back!  The  cabin  faced  them 
as  they  hovered  in  the  forest,  its  wooden  door  closed, 

83 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

and  a  small,  sliding  window  to  one  side,  deep  bedded 
in  the  logs,  leered  at  them  with  shut  panes.  The  two 
tracks  led  right  up  to  the  door,  around  which  were 
the  usual  deep  trails  in  the  snow,  packed  by  the 
ranger  in  tending  to  his  horses. 

"  Yeeow!  You  —  Jim!"  called  Big  John  from 
the  edge  of  the  trees.  They  waited  a  moment,  and 
then  the  door  opened  and  the  ranger  came  out.  He 
was  a  typical,  tall,  husky,  mountain  man,  with 
weatherbeaten,  leathery  face,  all  wrinkled  with 
crow's-feet  around  his  keen,  fearless  eyes. 

"  'Lo,  Big  John/'  he  called  quietly,  shifting  his 
pipe.  "  Cmon  in,  and  bring  your  friend ;  I  got 
visitors." 

Big  John  beckoned  to  him  with  a  jerk  of  the  head. 
"  Come  over  heah,  Jim/'  he  said  softly,  "  I  got  some- 
pin*  ter  tell  yu!" 

The  ranger  plowed  out  across  the  snow  and 
stopped.  "What's  up,  old-timer?  —  ain't  yu'  feel- 
in'  good  this  mornin'  ?  " 

"  Yaas,  tol'ble,"  grunted  Big  John.  "  This  yere's 
Sid,  Major  Colvin's  boy,"  he  added,  introducing 
Sid.  "  Know  anythin'  about  them  visitors  o' 
yourn?  "  he  queried. 

"  Nope.     They's  jest  transients.    Stopped  in  here, 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

'smornin' —  goin'  out  to  the  Park.  Tough  pair, 
I'm  thinkin'." 

"  You  bet !  Keerf ul,  now,  Jim,  an*  don't  turn 
around  —  I  see  yo're  packin'  yo're  gun  —  Them's 
elk-tooth  men,  Jim !  " 

"  Elk-toothers !  "  shouted  the  ranger.  Involun- 
tarily his  hand  shot  to  his  own  gun  butt. 

"  Cut  it ! "  hissed  Sid,  who  had  been  watching 
the  window.  For  just  an  instant  a  face  had  ap- 
peared at  it,  an  evil  face,  with  broad  coppery  nose 
and  black  eyes  that  glared  out  of  the  narrow  slits  of 
the  lids.  And  it  had  seen  that  sudden,  involuntary 
movement  of  the  ranger's  hand  to  his  hip  and  then 
swiftly  disappeared! 

The  ranger  whirled,  but  the  door  slammed  in  his 
face,  while  with  a  hollow  rattle  inside  the  bar  fell 
into  its  notch. 

"Quick!  Inter  th'  timber!"  gritted  Big  John, 
throwing  himself  behind  a  spruce.  Sid  dashed  for 
cover  and  fell  in  behind  a  huge  fallen  log,  whence  he 
could  watch  the  window  through  a  small  balsam 
clump. 

"  Shut  out  of  me  own  cabin ! "  screeched  the 
ranger.  "Come  out  of  that,  you  two!"  he  yelled 
from  behind  his  tree.  "  They've  got  us,  boys ! 

85 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

John,  you  work  around  to  the  south  —  there's  a  win- 
dow in  that  end.  The  back's  solid;  I'll  'tend  the 
door  here." 

Sid's  window  slid  back  about  four  inches  and 
stopped.  Then  came  the  bellow  of  a  piece  inside, 
and  a  chip  flew  out  of  the  log  in  front  of  him.  It 
was  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  ever  been  fired 
at,  and  it  filled  him  with  stern,  savage  anger.  He 
worked  over  behind  the  thickest  of  the  balsam,  and 
fired  through  it  at  the  crack  in  the  window,  while  at 
the  same  instant  came  the  tinkle  of  glass  as  the 
ranger's  six-gun  barked  and  a  pane  smashed.  Then 
Big  John's  rifle  roared,  and  its  echoes  reverberated 
through  the  forest,  accompanied  by  the  tinkle  of 
falling  glass. 

"  Whoopee !  —  cross-fire  'em !  "  yelled  the  ranger. 
"  Set  fire  to  'em  —  burn  'em,  kid !  " 

Sid  fired  the  heavy  .35  again,  and  drove  in  the  side 
of  the  sash.  Powder  smoke  wafted  out,  and  then 
another  shot  from  inside  and  the  bullet  ripped 
through  the  timber  back  of  him,  cutting  twigs  in  its 
path  until  it  brought  up  with  a  solid  Chock!  against 
a  tree  trunk. 

There  was  a  dead  silence  for  some  time  inside  the 
cabin,  and,  though  Sid  watched  carefully,  ready  to 

86 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

fire  on  the  instant,  he  could  see  no  dim  figures  mov- 
ing in  behind  the  window.  They  had  closed  the 
shutter  on  Big  John's  side  and  the  cabin  seemed  as 
black  as  a  pocket  from  outside.  Then  came  the  muf- 
fled blows  of  an  ax  from  somewhere  within. 

"  Watch  out,  now,  kid  —  they* re  cutting  a  sight 
hole  in  the  door,  most  likely.  Try  a  shot  over  on 
the  right-hand  side  with  that  big  rifle  of  yourn," 
said  the  ranger. 

Sid  sighted  about  knee-high  and  let  drive.  The 
door  rattled  and  shook,  and  a  neat  round  hole  showed 
in  it,  but  the  ax  went  on  chopping.  He  shoved  in  a 
fresh  clip. 

There  came  a  silence  again,  interrupted  now  and 
then  by  the  sound  of  breaking  boards. 

"Wonder  what  they're  up  to,  in  there?7'  called 
the  ranger  uneasily,  "  Tearing  up  the  floor,  most 
likely.  Look  out  for  that  Injun!  They're  allus 

puttin'  over  some  trick!  I  gotta  rush  'em 

pretty  soon,"  he  shivered ;  "  I  wa'n't  dressed  to  stay 
out  here  long." 

They  waited  for  a  considerable  length  of  time, 
while  dead  stillness  reigned  inside,  nor  had  a  sound 
come  from  Big  John,  "  Gosh !  I  can't  stand  this 
—  I'm  goin'  to  rush  'em !  *  said  the  ranger,  with 

87 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

chattering  teeth.  "  I'll  git  under  thet  window  some- 
how—" 

"Don't!"  interrupted  Sid.  "  I've  got  an  idea! 
What's  this  on  the  north  end  of  the  cabin?  I  can 
see  what  looks  like  a  dog  kennel,  up  against  the  chim- 
ney, from  here." 

"  Yea ;  that's  the  dawg  house  —  Say,  kid,"  ex- 
claimed the  ranger,  his  eye  brightening,  "  there's  a 
small  door  from  the  inside  of  that  kennel  into  the 
cabin  —  just  a  couple  of  short  logs,  leavin'  a  space 
between  their  ends  and  the  chimbly.  I  gen'ally  kept 
it  closed  with  a  slide  board  when  I  had  my  houn' 
dawg  pack,  but  on  mighty  cold  nights  I  used  to  open 
it  to  let  the  dawgs  come  in  the  cabin.  A  thin,  nar- 
rer  feller  like  you  — " 

"  I'm  on !  "  cried  Sid  energetically.  "  Change 
guns,  pal ;  my  rifle's  too  unwieldy.  See  you  later !  " 
and  he  was  off,  worming  back  into  the  forest,  where 
he  could  circle  and  work  up  to  the  chimney  in  the 
north  end,  unseen  from  the  window  in  the  front. 

He  crept  on  through  the  snow,  using  the  utmost 
caution,  for  there  might  be  chinks  around  the  chim- 
ney, which  the  Indian  would  be  sure  to  be  watching. 
He  finally  reached  the  dog  kennel,  which  was  but  a 
little  log  lean-to  built  against  the  wall  in  the  corner 

88 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

of  the  chimney,  with  a  small  door  leading  out  of  it 
at  the  side.  Here  the  ranger  used  to  keep  his 
hounds,  but  they  had  probably  been  killed  in  some 
hunting  battle,  for  none  were  around. 

Sid  found  that  he  could  just  manage  to  squeeze  in 
through  the  dog  door,  and  he  did  it  as  noiselessly  as 
possible.  Inside  it  was  warm  from  the  chimney 
heat,  and  there  was  an  old  bed  of  spruce  needles. 
Also,  close  up  beside  the  chimney  wall,  a  small  door, 
closed  by  a  board  which  let  in  through  the  log  walls 
into  the  cabin.  Sid  put  his  ear  against  this  board 
and  listened  for  a  long  while.  Not  a  sound  or  a 
stir  came  from  inside.  Then  he  tried  it  with  his 
hand,  and,  ever  so  gently,  raised  it  about  an  inch. 
He  listened  again,  but  not  even  sounds  of  breathing 
came  to  his  tense  ears.  He  did  not  dare  raise  the 
board  much  further,  or  attempt  to  put  his  head 
through  the  opening,  for  to  do  so  would  be  to  in- 
vite a  shot  from  a  concealed  outlaw.  Sid  thought  a 
while  as  he  listened,  and  then  put  his  wits  to  work. 
He  drew  out  his  compass  from  the  fob  in  his  breeches 
where  it  always  reposed,  and  used  its  polished  back 
for  a  mirror.  Turning  it  gradually  around,  just  in- 
side and  under  the  crack,  he  searched  every 'inch  of 
the  interior.  The  reflection  was  odd  and  distorted, 

89 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

but  it  showed  objects  well  enough.  There  was  no 
one  in  the  room  —  of  that  he  was  certain !  He  raised 
the  door  up  and  put  through  his  hat.  No  shot 
greeted  it,  and  presently  he  ventured  his  head,  peer- 
ing through  the  space  between  the  logs  and  its  brim. 
Still 'no  hostile  move  on  the  part  of  the  outlaws. 
Then  he  wormed  in  through  the  opening,  with  his 
revolver  ready  for  instant  fire.  Noiselessly  he  got 
to  his  feet  and  listened ;  then  tiptoed  over  to  the  door 
leading  into  the  bunk  room.  He  knelt  down  and 
put  out  his  head  cautiously,  close  to  the  floor.  The 
room  was  empty,  but  a  blaze  of  light  in  it  caused  him 
to  look  up  —  and  in  an  instant  the  mystery  was 
solved !  The  outlaws  had  escaped  through  a  hole  in 
the  back  of  the  roof !  Two  of  the  big  shakes  had 
been  knocked  loose  and  had  been»slid  out  from  under 
'the  bank  of  snow  on  the  roof,  and  through  it  they 
had  dug  their  way  out  to  freedom. 

"Hi!  Ranger!  Big  John !  — They've  gone!" 
Sid  shouted,  jumping  to  his  feet  and  running  to  the 
door. 

"  Aw !  Rats ! "  shouted  the  ranger  disgustedly. 
"  How  did  they  git  away?  " 

"  Chopped  out  some  shakes  and  dug  a  hole 
through  the  snow  in  the  back  slant  of  the 

90 


THE  ELK-TOOTH  OUTLAWS 

roof  —  that's  what  they  were  doing  with  the  ax! " 
said  Sid. 

Big  John  came  up,  and  Sid  told  how  he  had  got 
into  the  cabin. 

"Whoosh!  Pretty  rotten,—  eh?  "  grinned  Big 
John  sarcastically,  for  his  praise  always  did  take  the 
form  of  mock  blame.  "  So  ye  crawled  in  through 
th'  dawg  kennel,  eh?  Waal, —  next  thing  the  ma- 
jor'll  be  stringin*  me  up  for  lettin'  ye  do  any  sech 
fool  thing,  I'm  settin'  heah  to  tell  ye !  "  he  guffawed. 

"  Well,  boys,  it's  up  to  us  to  ketch  the  hosses  an' 
track  Jem,"  declared  the  ranger. 

"  Naw !  We  don't  want  no  hosses,"  cut  in  Big 
John.  "  Them  fellers'll  dig  out  fer  rock,  and  then 
it'll  be  all  climbin'  fer  us.  On  atter  'em,  boys! 
Hip!" 

They  picked  up  the  tracks  and  set  out  on  the  long 
chase. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

THE  tracks  led  out  uphill  to  the  east.  Both 
were  running  tracks,  with  spurts  of  snow 
shot  out  ahead  of  each  post-hole  onto  the 
smooth  white  blanket  that  drifted  under  the  small 
twigs  of  the  undergrowth.  Fifty  yards  back  of  the 
cabin  they  dodged  behind  a  tall  spruce,  but  the  evi- 
dences of  toiling  haste  kept  up.  Keeping  out  of  sight 
of  the  cabin,  the  outlaws  had  finally  gained  the  cleft 
of  a  great  ravine,  scoring  down  the  mountain  flank, 
and  into  this  they  had  turned.  A  brook  was  cascad- 
ing down  it  under  the  snow,  its  murmur  and  the 
noise  of  its  small  waterfalls  filling  the  ravine  with 
ceaseless  clamor.  Like  all  brooks,  it  zigzagged  its 
tortuous  way  down  through  self -cut  defiles  in  the 
mountains,  but  for  a  time  the  tracks  kept  on,  always 
with  breathless  speed  showing  in  the  jagged  tracks. 

"  Thet  Injun's  gainin'  time  —  thet's  what  he's  at- 
ter ! "  declared  Big  John,  studying  the  evidence. 
"  Look  out,  boys,  for  some  slick  trick." 

"  Snow's  a  mighty  hard  thing  to  stage  a  trick  in, 
92 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

John,"  objected  the  ranger;  "  's  my  bet  they'll  keep 
this  up  until  they  hit  them  rock  buttes." 

The  course  of  the  brook  rose  constantly  up  to- 
ward timber  line,  and  the  heavy  green  spruces  and 
balsams  soon  gave  way  to  burnt  and  bare  timber, 
most  of  it  down,  the  logs  lying  criss-crossed  in  every 
direction. 

"  Now  we  gotta  watch  out,  fellers/'  warned  Big 
John;  "  thar  they  goes,  up  along  this-yere  log." 

The  trail  ended,  suddenly,  with  the  stepping  up 
on  the  bare,  peeled  bulk  of  the  log.  They  followed 
it  to  the  end,  and  here  were  two  possible  courses: 
the  outlaws  might  have  jumped  to  a  near-by  stump 
and  thence  to  another  down  log,  or  to  a  bare  boul- 
der, near  the  end  of  which  a  convenient  trunk  lay 
uprooted.  They  scattered  along  both  outlets,  but 
both  led  to  new  dilemmas,  as  there  were  other  forks 
along  the  <lown  timber  that  they  might  have  cho- 
sen. Soon  all  three  of  them  were  scattered  far  apart 
among  the  fallen  tree  trunks,  with  no  further  clew 
reported  from  any  of  them. 

The  upper  end  of  the  field  of  burnt  and  down  tim- 
ber terminated  in  the  frowning  ramparts  and  jagged 
cliffs  of  a  long  ledge,  above  which  the  stunted  gray 
pines  dotted  the  upper  slopes  of  the  main  chain, 

93 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

capped  with  bare  rocky  peaks  and  buttes  that  jutted 
up  into  the  blue  afternoon  sky.  Big  John  halted, 
as  he  eyed  it,  judgmatically. 

"  I  tell  ye,  fellers,  we  don't  want  to  lose  no  time 
puzzlin'  out  this-yer.  Them  cliffs  is  whar  they's 
headed  f  er.  Le's  climb  right  up  thar  and  skirt  along 
the  bottom,  lookin'  f  er  sign." 

It  seemed  too  obvious  to  Sid.  The  Indian's  way 
would  be  more  subtle.  Either  he  would  back-track 
and  get  out  of  the  field  by  some  log  route,  or  — 

A  line  of  green  spruces  to  the  right,  marking  the 
upper  bed  of  the  brook,  attracted  him,  and  he  worked 
over  that  way,  while  the  other  two  went  on  directly 
up  the  mountain.  Through  some  shift  of  the  wind 
or  caprice  of  space,  the  fire  had  not  touched  those 
spruces,  but  the  dead  and  fallen  logs  reached  up  to 
the  very  edge  of  them  and  there  were  plenty  of 
routes  to  get  across  to  there  on  the  wind-scoured,  bare 
logs,  without  ever  putting  a  foot  in  the  snow.  Sid 
picked  his  way  along  them,  sharp  eyes  open  for  any 
possible  break  in  the  spruces,  scanning  carefully 
every  log  that  leaned  that  way.  He  came,  at  length 
to  a  dead  balsam,  denuded  of  its  small  branches,  that 
rose  at  a  long  slant  toward  the  green.  Its  upper 
end  was  buried  in  a  tall  green  spruce,  and  he  was 

94 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

about  to  pass  it  by  without  further  scrutiny  when  a 
suspicious  something  about  one  of  the  interlaced 
branches  caught  his  eye.  Here  would  be  a  get-away 
that  would  tickle  the  Indian's  soul,  he  thought. 
What  a  chance!  While  the  pursuers  would  have 
their  eyes  constantly  on  the  snow  for  tracks,  he 
would  climb  the  slanting  dead  tree  and  come  down 
through  that  spruce.  The  lad  swarmed  up  its  trunk, 
with  a  happy  tingle  of  excitement.  It  was  bare  and 
clean,  with  never  a  sign  of  a  track  or  a  print  of  a 
screw-calk  on  it,  but  still  he  climbed  on  up,  to  ex- 
amine the  something  that  had  seemed  unnatural  to 
his  eye.  It  was  merely  the  tip  of  a  snow-laden 
branch,  from  which  the  last  foot  of  snow  had  been 
knocked  off,  or  had  fallen  off  from  the  wind;  but 
such  things  are  not  to  be  passed  without  scrutiny. 
It  might  have  been  dislodged  by  some  one's  shoulder 
in  passing  —  the  white  man's,  of  course,  for  the  In- 
dian would  lead,  and  would  have  given  the  whole 
thing  up  if  he  had  known  of  any  such  trace  left 
behind. 

Sid  arrived,  finally,  at  the  broken  bit  of  snow,  and 
examined  it  carefully. 

"  Gorry !  "  he  muttered,  his  heart  beating  so  that 
he  could  hear  the  tick  of  it  through  his  open  mouth. 

95 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

For,  down  on  the  lower  branch  of  the  spruce,  was  a 
bit  of  packed  snow! 

He  peered  into  the  dim  depths  of  the  spruce,  where 
the  branches  joined  the  trunk.  That,  too,  looked 
suspicious,  as  if  some  one  had  climbed  down  through 
it.  Then  he  drew  back,  climbed  down  the  bare 
trunk  a  ways,  and  looked  across  the  field  for  signs  of 
his  companions.  They  were  far  up  the  hillside, 
running  busily  along  the  trunks,  and  too  far  away 
to  reach,  without  a  whoopee!  that  might  give  a  fatal 
warning  to  the  outlaws.  He  decided  to  go  on  alone. 

Climbing  down  through  the  spruce,  he  encoun- 
tered both  tracks  at  its  base.  All  thought  of  con- 
cealment had  evidently  been  abandoned  now,  for 
the  tracks  led  leisurely  upward,  following  the  flanks 
of  the  small  ravine  of  the  brook. 

"Well?"  he  muttered  to  himself,  with  bated 
breath,  "  I'll  come  out,  anyway,  up  at  the  cliffs. 
Won't  it  be  fun,  though,  to  put  one  over  on  Big 
John ! "  The  theatrical  in  him  caused  him  to  vis- 
ualize himself  standing  over  the  last  of  those  tracks 
where  they  reached  the  rocks,  and  waiting  for  Big 
John  and  the  ranger  to  find  him  there  —  with  the 
clew  in  his  hand ! 

He  pushed  on  up,  following  the  ravine  without 
06 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

difficulty.  Up  ahead,  the  tall  face  of  the  cliffs 
loomed  up  higher  and  higher,  with  a  great  avalanche 
scar,  swept  down  the  flank,  to  the  right.  It  was 
bare  of  trees  and  filled  with  clean  snow,  with  the 
lumpy  forms  of  boulders  showing  under  its  surface. 
The  source  of  the  brook,  too,  became  visible  as  he 
pushed  on,  avidly  —  a  huge,  icicle-hung  ledge,  out 
of  which  quantities  of  small  rivulets  of  water  trickled 
down  the  face  of  the  cliff,  to  be  gathered  by  the 
rock  into  the  beginnings  of  the  stream. 

Then  the  boy  stopped  in  his  tracks,  frozen  still  by 
a  new  thought.  .Suppose  the  outlaws  were  watching 
him  at  that  very  moment!  Suppose  this  were  an 
ambush !  Suppose  he  were  to  be  suddenly  grabbed 
from  behind  and  done  to  death  in  the  snow,  behind 
the  screen  of  these  spruces?  The  idea  chilled  his 
blood  for  the  moment,  and  he  looked  over  his  rifle 
hurriedly,  and  fingered  at  the  hammer  nervously. 
.  .  .  Then  the  forceful  indifference  of  his  character 
asserted  itself,  and  he  pushed  on,  following  the  trail 
at  a  distance,  whence  he  could  see  the  tracks,  yet  keep 
out  of  sight  himself  in  the  spruces. 

iHe  finally  arrived  under  the  rocky  talus  at  the 
base  of  the  cliff.  The  tracks  disappeared  on  the 
rock.  Sid  stopped  and  looked  about  him,  breathing 

97 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

heavily.  A  ledge,  under  the  overhanging  face  of  the 
cliff,  led  tip  invitingly  to  the  right,  and  the  boy 
longed  to  explore  that  ledge,  immediately,  but  the 
wiser  course  to  look  for  Big  John  and  the  ranger 
before  going  further  restrained  him.  He  glanced 
along  the  face  of  the  cliff  to  the  left,  but  could  see 
nothing  of  them.  An  impenetrable  vale  of  green 
spruces  shut  off  vision  to  that  side.  They  grew 
right  up  against  the  wall  of  the  cliff,  spreading  their 
roots  down  into  fissures  in  the  rock  detritus. 

What  an  eerie  place!  Here,  if  anywhere,  up  in 
some  cleft  in  that  cliff,  the  elk-tooth  men  had  their 
base  camp ;  a  cave  or  a  tent,  most  likely ;  and,  in  all 
probability,  that  ledge  led  to  it. 

An  uncanny  sense  that  he  was  being  looked  at,  by 
some  one,  assailed  him.  No  man  can  escape  that 
feeling;  its  roots  lie  in  some  obscure  psychological 
reason  that  we  have  not  fathomed  yet.  He  scanned 
the  face  of  the  cliff  above  him.  It  was  full  of  fis- 
sures and  small  clefts,  all  impossible  to  reach  from 
where  he  stood,  and  tiny  tufts  of  gnarly,  gray  pines 
grew  in  them.  He  searched  them  all,  carefully,  with- 
out result.  Then  he  stopped  and  examined  the 
ledge,  minutely.  Its  small  stones  had  a  worn  ap- 
pearance that  was  not  weather !  There  was  nothing 

98 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

that  he  could  honestly  call  a  track  —  but  yet  —  that 
ledge  had  been  trodden  by  human  foot,  he  was  cer- 
tain! He  wished  Big  John  and  the  ranger  would 
come  along,  and  a  frightened  temptation  to  turn  and 
fly  from  the  spot  kept  urging  at  him  unconsciously. 

Then  he  stepped  back  and  studied  the  face  of  the 
cliff  again.  A  small,  twisted  gray  pine,  with  a  boul- 
der or  round  rock  half  concealed  in  the  shadows  and 
undergrowing  grasses  at  its  roots,  held  his  eye  for  a 
time.  He  gazed  at  it  fixedly.  Then  he  started,  for, 
surely,  that  glint  that  came  to  him  through  the 
tangles  of  grasses  was  the  reflection  of  a  beam  from 
a  human  eye !  The  suspicion  grew  to  a  certainty  as 
he  gazed,  and  a  shiver  went  through  him.  There 
might  be  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  protruding  through 
those  grasses,  too ! 

He  dropped  his  eyes  and  turned  casually,  to  stum- 
ble off  to  the  left  with  the  idea  of  pretending  that  he 
had  discovered  nothing — -until  he  could  once  get 
beyond  the  protection  of  those  spruces.  He  took  an- 
other studiedly  careless  step  forward  —  and  there 
was  a  swish!  in  the  air,  and  a  thin  line  shot  down 
across  his  face.  Dodging  it  instinctively,  he  felt 
his  arms  pinned  to  his  side  as  by  a  stout  lariat,  and 
then  an  irresistible  force  hauled  him  off  his  feet  and 

99 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

he  felt  himself  being  dragged  swiftly  up  the  face  of 
the  cliff!  He  tried  with  all  his  will  power  to  shout, 
but  the  breath  seemed  squeezed  out  of  his  lungs  and 
all  he  could  utter  was  a  feeble  gasp.  Then  fierce 
hands  grasped  him,  and  a  wad  of  bandanna  was 
crammed  into  his  mouth,  while  his  ankles  were 
pinned  together  by  some  one  up  on  the  ledge.  Sid 
rolled  over  and  kicked  and  struggled  with  desperate 
intensity,  but  an  iron  hand  grasped  his  face,  and 
his  nostrils  were  closed  by  a  rough  thumb  and  fore- 
finger. He  tried  to  bite  at  the  hand.  He  wrestled 
convulsively.  His  breath  turned  to  poison  within 
him,  the  world  grew  black  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
felt  his  strength  ebbing  away.  The  hand  just  gave 
him  breath  enough  to  keep  alive,  and  gradually  he 
grew  quiet. 

The  two  men  who  were  holding  him  had  worked 
in  grunting  silence  so  far ;  now  one  of  them  spoke. 

"  Well,  now  that  you've  got  him,  what  are  we  go- 
ing to  do  with  him?  "  he  snarled. 

Sid  opened  his  eyes  to  find  himself  tightly  bound, 
with  the  two  elk-tooth  outlaws  looking  at  him.  He 
was  in  their  base  camp,  a  sort  of  lair  under  a  great 
shelf  of  rock,  filled  on  the  dirt  floor  with  old  browse, 
and  a  pair  of  filthy  blankets  on  log  bunks  to  either 

100 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

side.  The  trail  to  it  seemed  to  be  closed  with  bushy 
pines  that  one  must  part  before  entering,  but  a  well- 
trodden  path  led  under  them,  evidently  down  the 
ledge  trail  that  he  had  noticed  to  his  right  when  down 
below. 

"  Ugh !  Boy  see  too  much !  "  grunted  the  Indian 
doggedly,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  No  can  let 

go." 

"  Yeah  ? "  snorted  the  other  contemptuously. 
"  Well,  the  ranger  and  that  big  cow  man'll  be  along 
yere  presently  lookin'  f  er  him  —  and  then  what'll  we 
do?" 

The  Indian  said  nothing,  but  pointed  his  rifle  at 
the  two  bushes  that  closed  the  trail.  The  gesture 
told  all!  Sid  shuddered.  He  could  see  the  whole 
thing;  Big  John  and  the  ranger  finding  his  tracks 
down  below  —  coming  up  the  ledge  trail  —  bursting 
eagerly  through  the  bushes,  looking  for  him  —  and 
then,  what  ? 

He  cudgeled  his  brains  for  some  way  to  warn 
them.  An  ugly  grin  spread  over  the  Indian's  fea- 
tures as  he  lowered  his  rifle. 

"  Boy  heap  good  decoy,"  he  muttered,  smiling 
evilly  at  the  other  man.  The  latter's  rough, 
bearded  features  relaxed.  He  cocked  the  hammer 

101 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

of  his  rifle  as  he  smiled  broadly.     They  were  con- 
tent to  wait. 

Sid  lay  still,  thinking,  as  the  slow  minutes  passed. 
After  perhaps  fifteen  minutes,  a  faint  whoopee!  over 
to  the  left  echoed  along  the  cliffs.  They  were  look- 
ing for  him,  at  last.  The  thought  drove  him  crazy 
with  apprehension.  Sooner  or  later  they  would 
come  along  the  cliff  below  and  he  must  manage  to 
warn  them  somehow.  As  for  the  outlaws,  they 
looked  at  each  other  significantly,  and  they  both  took 
position,  squatting  with  ready  rifles  before  the  bushes 
that  closed  their  camp  trail. 

The  calls  of  his  two  friends  soon  stopped,  as  they 
had  heard  no  answer  and  their  native  suspicions 
had  been  aroused.  Sid  guessed  that  Big  John  would 
conclude  that  he  had  met  the  outlaws  somehow,  and 
been  captured  by  them,  so  that  all  his  movements 
from  that  time  would  be  careful  and  the  least  sign 
scrutinized  with  careful  woodsman's  knowledge  be- 
fore making  a  move. 

Still  the  foreboding  silence  kept  up,  and  the  out- 
laws remained  rigid  on  watch.  A  faint  bugling  of  a 
bull  elk  in  some  far  valley  and  the  rattle  of  a  winter 
woodpecker  on  a  dead  tree  came  to  his  ears,  and  once 
he  thought  he  heard  the  faint  purr  of  rifle  shot 

1 02 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

echoes  whispering  over  the  crags,  but  otherwise  all 
was  still.  Sid  had  about  matured  a  plan  to  work  his 
hat  loose,  guardedly,  and  then  toss  it  over  the  cliff 
with  a  quick  jerk  of  his  head,  when  suddenly  the  In- 
dian jumped. 

"  Ugh !  Boy  drop  rifle !  "  came  his  alarmed  voice, 
in  guttural  accents.  "  Cow  man  findum.  Look  up. 
Know  all!" 

He  went  to  the  edge  of  the  ledge  excitedly,  peered 
over  cautiously,  and  then  drew  back,  shaking  his 
head. 

"Snow  broke  off  bushes !-— Plenty  bad?"  he 
growled. 

"  We'll  hev  to  git  outer  here  right  sudden  pronto, 
I'm  thinkin' !  "  burst  out  the  white  man.  "  Right 
now!  On  the  jump!"  he  exclaimed  despairingly. 
"  Them  f ellers'll  git  onto  us,  fust  thing,  an'  then 
Gawd  knows  what  they'll  do!  They'll  be  pisen  at- 
ter  us,  knowin'  we  got  the  boy ;  an'  I  don't  want  no 
rifle  business  with  Jim  Hoge,  with  the  whole  Unyted 
States  Gov'mint  back  o'  him !  Le's  go !  " 

"  No.  Me  stay.  Shoot,  when  come !  "  gritted 
the  Indian,  taking  up  his  position  flat  on  his  belly 
behind  the  small  gray  pine  where  Sid  had  first  seen 
him. 

103 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

The  white  outlaw  watched  him  uneasily. 

"  Injun  —  you  allers.  was  a  fool ! "  he  burst  out 
bitterly.  "You  shoot  down  Jim  Hoge;  and  then 
the  Lewis  *n*  Clark  ranger  finds  him, —  shore, —  in  a 
week  or  so  —  and  then  it's  a  necktie  party  f er  both 
of  us,  sooner  or  later.  And  what  are  we  a-goin'  ter 
do  with  this  kid  here?  " 

"  Me  —  lose-um.  Boy  know  too  much !  "  mut- 
tered the  Indian  darkly. 

"  Wuss  'n'  wuss !  "  exploded  the  other  outlaw,  wild 
anxiety  in  his  tones.  "  We  start  out  gittin'  elk  teeth ; 
and  then  you  go  to  killin'  Gov'mint  people,  an'  them 
two  hunters  here  —  they's  no  ind  to  it,  I'm  tellin' 
you,  Injun !  I'm  through,  right  now !  You  kin  stay 
here  ef  you  want  ter,  but  the  sooner  we  gits  out  an* 
runs  cl'ar  out'n  this  mess,  the  better.  They's  plenty 
more  elk,  up  Sun  River  way.  C'mon,"  he  coaxed. 

"  White  man, —  plenty  yellow  streak !  "  grunted 
the  Indian  contemptuously,  over  his  shoulder,  still 
watching  the  base  of  the  cliff.  "  Me  no  care!  Me 
hate 'em  all!" 

A  deep  sense  of  the  wrongs  and  injuries  done  to 
his  race  rang  out  in  his  tones,  and  he  went  on  stol- 
idly with  his  watch.  Then  the  faint  crack  of  a  bro- 
ken length  of  lodgepole  pine  sounded  far  over  to  the 

104 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

left.  It  galvanized  the  white  outlaw  into  a  frenzy 
of  action. 

"They're  a-comin',  Injun  —  you  hear  that?"  he 
gasped.  "  I'm  gittin'  outer  here !  So-long !  "  and 
he  started  hastily  for  the  bushes. 

The  Indian  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"  Yah  —  'f raid !  Plenty  'f raid !  "  he  gritted,  con- 
temptuous scorn  in  his  glittering  black  eyes.  "  Me 
no  can  stay  fight  two  !  Me  go !  " 

He  jerked  Sid  to  his  feet,  and  swiftly  cut  the 
thongs  which  bound  his  ankles.  "  Boy  come  along ! 
No  make  trouble,  or  — "  He  patted  his  knife  scab- 
bard significantly. 

The  white  outlaw  turned  and  hesitated.  "  What 
you  goin'  to  do  with  him?"  he  demanded  suspi- 
ciously. "  Why  not  hog-tie  him  and  leave  him 
here?" 

"  Ugh !  Find  too  soon.  Boy  tell  too  much.  Me 
—  lose  um,"  he  snorted,  shoving  Sid  ahead  of  him. 

The  other  outlaw  acquiesced,  unwillingly,  and  they 
set  out.  The  ledge  skirted  the  cliff  for  a  short  dis- 
tance and  then  turned  and  went  down  to  a  sharp  slant 
below.  The  outlaws,  however,  turned  up  and 
climbed  carefully  upward  at  this  point,  leaving  prac- 
tically no  trail  on  the  rocks  behind  them,  and  pres- 

10$ 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ently  they  gained  a  shoulder  above,  where  they  set 
out  swiftly  across  the  snow.  The  way  led  up 
through  a  deep,  rocky  gorge,  which  they  crossed, 
and  then  began  to  ascend,  bearing  always  to  the 
right.  Soon  they  came  out  on  that  snowy  shoul- 
der, dotted  with  stunted  pines,  that  Sid  had  noted 
from  down  in  the  valley.  No  one  under  the  base  of 
the  cliff  could  see  them  up  here,  but  the  Indian 
stopped  and  scanned  every  foot  of  the  field  of  down 
timber  below  and  the  course  of  the  brook,  with  the 
keen  eye  of  an  eagle,  before  he  would  advance  a 
step.  Then  they  pushed  on,  running  swiftly  from 
tree  to  tree  and  stopping  to  peer  down  below.  By 
its  abrupt  ending  with  a  yawning  gulf  of  space  be- 
yond the  shoulder,  Sid  knew  that  they  were  above 
the  ice  cap,  out  of  which  flowed  the  beginnings  of 
the  brook.  Beyond  it  lay  the  avalanche  scar,  and 
up  toward  the  head  of  this  the  party  now  climbed. 

Here  the  Indian  stopped  and  pointed  upward  to 
some  tall,  bare,  rock  chutes  that  jutted  out,  up  in  the 
snowy  peaks,  about  a  half  a  mile  farther  up  the 
mountain  than  they  were. 

"  Me  meet  you  there,"  he  said  to  the  other  outlaw, 
as  he  began  untying  the  fastenings  that  held  Sid's 
wrists  behind  his  back. 

106 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  boy  ?  "  barked 
the  white  man,  every  accent  of  suspicion  and  terror 
mingling  in  his  tones.  "  No  killing  now,  Injun!  " 
he  warned.  "  We  gotta  git  out'n  this  clean." 

The  Indian  faced  him,  and  looked  him  level  in  the 
eye.  "  No.  Me  no  kill,"  he  said  slowly ;  "me  — 
lose  um ! "  Just  the  ghost  of  a  smile  twisted  the 
corner  of  his  mouth. 

"  Sw'ar  it?  "  demanded  the  other,  still  suspicious. 

"  Me  no  lie,"  said  the  Indian  shortly. 

The  white  man  turned  away  and  plodded  off  up 
the  vast  slopes  toward  the  rock  buttes,  now  and 
then  looking  back  as  if  half  convinced.  Left  alone, 
the  Indian  gave  Sid  a  prod,  and  they  started  to  climb 
uphill  toward  the  head  of  the  avalanche  scar,  skirt- 
ing it  on  the  left  side.  It  was  a  fearful  place.  The 
long  sweep  of  smooth  snow,  quarter  of  a  mile  wide, 
dropped  down  in  a  steep,  curved-in  chute,  ending  a 
mile  below  in  a  gigantic  tangle  of  piled-up  trees  and 
boulders,  where  the  last  slide  had  fetched  up  finally, 
to  be  stopped  by  the  forest  wall.  An  overhanging 
shoulder  of  dead  trees  with  their  roots  dangling  in 
the  air  over  the  drop,  down  trees  criss-crossed  at 
all  angles,  and  boulder-strewn  stumps,  made  a  sort 
of  small  field  that  represented  all  the  land  that  was 

107 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

left  above  the  top  of  the  slide.  Its  upper  end  ter- 
minated in  sheer  walls  of  rock,  bare  and  jagged,  with 
snow  lines  streaking  their  fissures.  The  whole  field 
seemed  ready  to  go  at  the  least  touch  and  join  the 
rest  of  the  landslide  far  below.  Undoubtedly  the 
snows  of  this  winter  would  start  it,  even  if  some 
small  disturbance  like  a  bounding  boulder,  an  ice 
cake  dropped  off  the  cliff  above,  or  a  tree  blown 
down  and  starting  to  roll  downhill,  did  not  start  it 
sooner. 

Up  along  this  the  Indian  drove  Sid.  His  hands 
were  tied  with  but  a  single  thong,  the  end  of  which 
was  grasped  in  his  captor's  hand.  The  boy  conned 
over  plans  of  escape.  As  they  picked  their  way  up- 
hill, he  watched  his  chance  to  knock  the  Indian  over, 
in  some  unguarded  moment  of  climbing,  or  else  jerk 
him  over  by  some  sudden  pull  on  the  line  at  a  favor- 
able instant.  Sid  had  no  confidence  whatever  in 
the  Indian's  promise  to  let  him  go,  and  his  selection 
of  the  avalanche  field,  toward  which  he  was  steadily 
working,  boded  no  good.  But  the  chance  never 
came.  The  Indian  was  too  wary,  and  not  to  be 
caught  off  his  guard.  He  seemed  to  guess  the  boy's 
intentions  instinctively,  and  grinned  at  him  sardon- 
ically at  every  difficult  point  in  the  going. 

108 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

Finally  they  reached  the  brow  of  the  avalanche 
field.  Right  near  them,  on  the  edge  of  the  field  and 
overhanging  the  blue  depths  of  the  scar,  a  huge, 
prone,  dead  spruce,  a  hundred  feet  long,  lay  butt 
downhill  at  a  long  slant.  The  Indian  stopped  and 
studied  it  a  while.  Its  roots  hung  out  in  the  air, 
spreading  twenty  feet  wide  in  great  bare  arms,  and 
the  trunk  was  bare  of  bark  and  denuded  of  branches. 
He  untied  Sid's  thong. 

"  Boy  go  out  on  tree,"  he  ordered  abruptly. 

Sid  faced  him  accusingly.  "  Indian,  if  that  isn't 
murder,  I  don't  know  what  is!  Suppose  that  tree 
were  to  start?  Suppose  my  weight  were  to  tip  it 
loose?—" 

"  Tree  all  right,"  interrupted  the  Indian.  "  Boy 
stay  there.  Me  go  up  and  wave  hand  —  then  him 
free ! "  he  grinned  ingratiatingly.  It  looked  fair 
and  above-board.  He  simply  wanted  Sid  a  reason- 
able distance  away  when  they  parted,  so  that  the 
youth  himself  could  not  start  anything.  Sid  stepped 
gingerly  on  the  trunk  and  made  his  way  slowly 
down  its  slant  toward  the  roots.  As  he  worked  out 
over  the  fall,  and  blue  air  showed  below  him  for 
immeasurable  distances,  the  boy  wanted  to  get  down 
and  crawl,  so  fearsome  was  the  prospect;  but  pride 

109 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

of  race,  the  determination  not  to  show  fear  before 
an  Indian,  kept  him  to  his  feet.  Finally,  breathless, 
with  heart  pounding  and  legs  quivering  under  him, 
he  reached  the  roots  and  fairly  grabbed  at  their  wel- 
come support. 

Then  the  Indian  pointed  up  on  the  field,  to  where 
a  down  tree  lay  gleaming  in  the  sunlight.  "  Me 
wave  hand  from  there. —  Bye !  white  boy !  "  he 
grunted,  turning  sullenly  away. 

Sid  watched  him  climb,  ready  on  the  moment  to 
start  back  to  safety.  The  tree  under  him  seemed  to 
teeter  over  the  chasm,  so  loosely  balanced  was  it  in 
the  snow,  and  he  hardly  dared  move  for  fear  of 
starting  it  loose.  It  was  the  last  of  its  fellows  to 
stay  up  here  when  the  slide  of  last  year  went  down; 
what  small  freak  of  circumstance  held  it  he  could 
not  guess  —  probably  some  stub  against  a  boulder, 
and  by  this  time  the  stub  might  be  rotted  and  crum- 
bling. 

The  Indian  climbed  steadily,  and  then  picked  his 
way  out  gingerly  across  the  avalanche  field  toward 
the  prone  log.  After  what  seemed  an  interminable 
time  he  reached  it,  but,  instead  of  waving  his  arms, 
he  rose  up  his  full  height  and  stretched  forth  his 
broad  arms,  shaking  malevolently  his  clenched  fists, 

no 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

bellowing  out  the  defiance  of  his  race  against  the 
whole  tribe  of  white  usurpers. 

"  White  boy  —  me  —  hate  —  you!  —  Hate  —  all 
—  white  —  liar! "  he  yelled  through  cupped  hands. 
Then  he  stooped  suddenly  and  heaved  on  the  log 
with  his  powerful  shoulders.  In  an  instant  it  had 
turned  and  started  to  roll  downhill.  It  gathered 
snow  with  every  turn,  starting  logs  and  boulders  in 
its  path,  and  presently  the  whole  field  was  filled  with 
flying,  bounding  rocks,  stumps  and  trees,  racing 
swiftly  down  the  slope  in  a  flying  scud  of  snow.  Sid 
watched  it,  spellbound,  for  a  moment.  The  whole 
field  was  moving  —  never  had  he  witnessed  such  a 
magnificent,  stupendous  spectacle!  Past  him  in 
droves  shot  long  trees,  huge  boulders  and  great 
stumps,  rolling  and  bounding  down  the  slope.  The 
ground  shook  under  him  like  an  earthquake,  and  his 
own  tree  was  teetering  and  balancing  ready  on  the 
instant  to  move.  Thrilled  with  a  sudden  sense  of 
his  own  danger,  he  threw  himself  flat  on  the  trunk 
and  crawled  quickly  up  its  slanting  bole.  But  a  dip 
and  a  tremor  in  it  made  him  pause,  and  involuntarily 
work  back  toward  the  greater  safety  of  the  roots. 
He  saw  a  long  pine,  eight  inches  through,  charging 
down  upon  him,  and  turned  to  rise  and  grasp  the 

in 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

roots  feverishly  as  its  butt  struck  them  with  a  ter- 
rific impact.  Like  a  toboggan  released  from  the 
platform,  his  tree  jumped  out  into  space,  dipped  in  a 
majestic  curve,  struck  the  slope  with  a  jar  that  al- 
most wrenched  him  loose,  and  swept  on  down  the 
slope.  Faster  and  faster  it  slid,  swaying  and  turn- 
ing, only  kept  from  rolling  over  and  over  by  its 
spreading  roots.  Sid  had  felt  that  emotion  of  wild, 
uncontrolled,  dizzy  dropping  in  a  scenic  railway,  and 
he  gripped  the  roots  with  all  his  strength  and  held 
fast,  utterly  unable  to  think,  to  do  more  than  set  his 
teeth  and  hang  on.  The  tree  was  on  the  very  edge 
of  the  slide,  or  he  would  have  been  killed  long  ago 
in  the  roaring,  grinding  mass  of  boulders  and  tree 
trunks  that  swept  on  down  headlong,  rearing  and 
plunging  over  one  another.  He  sensed  whole  trees 
upturning  over  their  roots  and  whipping  about  like 
giant  flails,  boulders  that  bounded  through  the  air 
like  cannon  balls,  striking  now  and  then  with  a 
shock  that  split  them  in  twain  —  it  was  the  most 
awful,  breathless  ride  of  his  whole  life! 

And  now,  swiftly  the  walls  of  the  forest  below 
seemed  to  be  coming  up  to  meet  them.  The  fate  of 
the  trees  in  advance  of  them  terrified  him.  They 
met  in  a  frightful  grind  of  crashing  and  riven  trunks, 

112 


THE  OUTLAWS'  LAIR 

snapping  off  twelve-inch  spruces  like  matches  and 
piling  up  on  the  mass  of  debris  below  higher  than 
twenty  houses.  He  saw  his  end  swiftly  approach- 
ing, and,  to  save  his  life,  he  must  do  something  and 
that  with  the  quickness  of  light,  for  there  were  but 
a  few  moments  left.  It  would  be  sure  death  for  him 
to  be  holding  to  those  roots  when  they  met  the  im- 
pact of  the  forest!  Giddily  he  stooped,  crouched, 
turned  around  and  gripped  the  trunk  with  his  arms, 
the  flying  snow  searing  along  his  fingers  like  hot 
iron.  He  had  crept  perhaps  ten  feet  up  the  trunk, 
when,  with  a  stunning  crash,  his  tree  charged  into 
the  forest,  snapping  off  small  stunted  pole  growths 
like  whips  and  fetching  up  with  a  terrific  jar  against 
a  huge  bole  which  swayed  and  shivered  under  the 
impact  like  a  leaf.  A  rain  of  poles  and  branches 
fell  all  around  him,  as  the  boy  rolled  into  the  snow 
under  the  protection  of  the  trunk,  and  a  long,  lodge- 
pole  pine  came  down  with  a  crash  and  pinned  his 
foot  against  the  trunk  like  a  vise.  It  would  have 
crushed  it  entirely  but  that  some  other  obstruction 
had  taken  most  of  the  force  of  the  blow. 

Then  the  trees  behind  came  on  piling  up,  their 
branches  charging  at  him  like  the  lances  of  an  army. 
They  slid  fiercely  over  the  trunk,  stabbing  over  his 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

head  with  diabolical  persistence.  Then,  from  some- 
where up  above,  a  falling  branch  came  down  with  a 
stunning  shock  on  the  bole  and  the  end  of  it  hit  him 
a  stunning  blow.  iHe  saw  stars;  —  blackness  all 
around, —  the  world  reeled  before  his  eyes, —  and 
then  came  the  black  pall  of  unconsciousness ! 


CHAPTER  VII 
ESCAPE 

WHEN  Sid  came  to,  he  was  surprised  to 
find  that  he  had  come  through  it  all 
unhurt.  His  head  was  splitting  with 
a  headache,  and  a  lump  as  big  as  an  egg  on  his  skull 
glowed  like  a  hot  coal,  tender  to  the  touch;  but  he 
was  delighted  to  (find  that  he  could  wiggle  his  toes 
in  the  imprisoned  cruiser  moccasin,  and  that  his 
ankle,  although  bound  fast,  was  not  crushed. 

Studying  out  this  phenomenon,  he  examined  the 
lodgepole  pine  curiously.  It  lay  across  the  tree, 
jamming  his  ankle  in  the  notch  of  a  projecting  stub. 
It  had  not  struck  his  leg  directly,  but  had  landed  on 
the  bole  and  slid  along  it  until  it  fetched  up  against 
the  stub,  carrying  his  ankle  with  it.  How  to  get  it 
out  again  was  the  question. 

He  sprawled  around  in  the  snow.  Overhead  the 
interlacing  branches  of  the  trees  piled  up  by  the  ava- 
lanche formed  a  dense  tangle  of  stumps,  roots,  long 
dead  branches  and  even  trunks,  so  that  he  seemed 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

buried  deep  under  them  all,  and,  even  if  free,  could 
hardly  get  out  alive.  But  it  was  comparatively 
warm,  down  in  there,  and  the  cutting  chill  of  the 
wind  was  held  at  bay. 

The  boy  looked  around  him  cheerfully,  after  sev- 
eral ineffectual  tugs  at  his  foot.  It  was  good  to  be 
alive,  anyway !  Perhaps  Big  John  might  come ;  per- 
haps he  might  chop  himself  loose  with  his  belt  ax. 
He  wormed  around  and  felt  for  it,  looped  in  its 
sheath  on  the  belt  of  his  canvas  jacket.  He  felt  for 
it,  confidently;  then  with  a  hurried  gasp  of  alarm  — 
it  was  gone!  Nor,  was  it  anywhere  buried  in  the 
snow  near  him;  wrenched,  most  likely,  out  of  its 
rivets  by  some  violent  twist  during  that  fearful  ride 
down  into  the  timber;  twisted  off  by  contact  with 
some  rock,  when  he  had  thrown  himself  under  the 
protection  of  the  tree  trunk,  and  it  was  still  moving. 
A  dull  ache  in  his  ribs  convinced  him  that  this  had 
been  the  case,  and,  feeling  up  there,  he  was  surprised 
to  find  a  sore  and  aching  spot  on  his  ribs  where  the 
ax  had  been. 

The  boy's  heart  sank.  Here  ended  his  confident 
dreams  of  a  speedy  release  that  way ! 

Then  he  squirmed  around  and  scanned  the  trunk 
of  the  lodgepole  pine,  where  it  passed  on  over  his 

116 


ESCAPE 

shoulder.  It  was  long  and  slender,  as  are  all  that 
species  of  tree,  and  its  trunk  lay  on  a  great  stump 
that  had  undoubtedly  saved  his  life,  for  the  pine 
would  have  smashed  in  two  across  his  own  tree  trunk 
and  the  splintered  ends  would  have  ground  him  to 
pieces  if  it  had.  The  stump  had  taken  part  of  its 
fall,  and  beyond  it  stuck  out  the  tip  of  the  tree,  like 
a  long  fish  pole,  thirty  feet  of  it,  at  least,  hanging 
high  in  the  air. 

To  budge  it  at  all  seemed  absolutely  hopeless. 
Only  a  half  an  inch  of  movement  along  the  great 
trunk  would  suffice,  but  the  strength  of  twenty  men 
would  not  suffice  to  gain  that  one  half  inch!  He 
puzzled  over  it  for  some  time,  with  no  solution  com- 
ing to  cheer  him.  Then  a  chill  struck  through  him, 
adding  its  terrors  to  the  sense  of  loneliness  and  de- 
pression that  weighed  on  his  spirits.  He  buttoned 
up  his  coat,  tightly,  but  the  chills  continued.  Stung 
to  action,  he  kicked  frantically  with  his  left  foot, 
which  was  doubled  in  alongside  the  log,  and  was  de- 
lighted to  find  that  it  moved  a  little.  Digging  the 
snow  out  around  it  with  his  mittens,  he  finally  freed 
it  and  found  that  he  could  stand  up  on  one  leg,  haul- 
ing himself  up  by  the  branches  overhead.  He  could 
even  move  around  a  little,  over  a  very  restricted  area, 

117 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

but  the  imprisoned  right  foot  held  him  to  a  very 
narrow  radius. 

Then,  from  far  up  on  the  mountain  came  the 

major's     signal.    Pop !  —  Pop !  —  Pop ! Pop  / 

snapped  the  faint  bark  of  a  rifle.  Big  John!  The 
boy  danced  on  his  foot  and  yelled  with  all  his  might 
through  cupped  hands.  He  could  not  see  out  of  the 
tangle  of  driftwood,  but  he  could  visualize  Big  John, 
up  there,  who  with  the  ranger  had  undoubtedly 
tracked  the  outlaws  to  the  point  where  they  separated, 
and  then  the  Indian's  and  his  own  tracks  to  where  he 
had  gone  out  on  the  trunk.  And  then  the  Indian's 
alone,  to  where  he  had  started  the  log  which  precipi- 
tated the  landslide!  The  boy  whooped  for  joy  at 
the  prospects  of  immediate  delivery,  and  he  yelled 
again,  with  all  his  might,  as  a  second  signal  rang 
out. 

That  put  a  damper  on  his  high  spirits.  Why  were 
they  signaling  a  second  time?  Why  had  not  Big 
John  guessed  the  whole  happening  from  the  tracks, 
and  then  followed  on  down  to  see  if  he  was  any- 
where yet  alive  ?  Suppose  the  avalanche  had  wiped 
out  all  tracks?  Would  he  conclude  from  the  two, 
his  and  the  Indian's,  leading  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
field,  that  both  had  been  swept  away  in  trying 

118 


ESCAPE 

to  cross  it?  And,  even  then,  though,  wouldn't  he 
climb  down  to  investigate  what  had  become  of  the 
bodies  ? 

The  boy  sank  down  in  the  snow  with  that  thought, 
for  his  single  leg  was  becoming  very  tired.  He 
waited  some  time  for  further  developments,  now  and 
then  rising  to  Whoopee!  again  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs. 

Still  the  silence  kept  up.  No  further  signals 
floated  down  the  mountain,  and  no  hails  sounded  out 
of  the  depths  of  the  forest.  The  boy  gave  way  to 
despair  again,  as  the  shadows  began  to  grow  across 
the  bits  of  sky  that  he  could  see,  and  it  became  twi- 
light down  where  he  was.  He  reproached  himself 
bitterly  for  not  trying  to  raise  a  smoke  —  even  a 
small  smudge  built  down  in  the  log  jam,  while  they 
were  still  looking  down  at  him,  would  have 
answered. 

Well  —  why  not  a  fire,  anyway?  he  asked  him- 
self suddenly.  There  was  plenty  of  driftwood  in 
reach,  and  the  chill  of  night  and  the  darkness  would 
soon  be  coming  on.  But  where  could  he  build  it  ?  • — 
with  no  ax  to  cut  bottom  logs  to  lie  on  the  snow? 
Without  them,  and  stout  ones,  any  fire  would  melt 
itself  out  immediately. 

119 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Then  the  Big  Idea  hit  him.  Why  not  build  it  on 
the  great  trunk,  close  up  against  the  pine  log  —  and 
—  burn  it  in  two ! 

"Cracky!"  he  jubilated.  "The  very  thing! 
That  pine  will  lift  up  off  my  foot  like  a  lever,  once  I 
burn  it  through!  Its  outer  end,  beyond  the  stump, 
is  by  far  the  heaviest  —  it  will  go  up  like  a  seesaw, 
once  I  cut  it  in  half!" 

He  rose  up  on  his  left  foot  again  and  peered  over 
the  pine  log,  to  where  his  right  foot  jutted  out  be- 
yond the  stub.  There  was  plenty  of  space  there  to 
build  a  small  fire  on  the  big  trunk,  and  he  could  reach 
his  foot  by  bending  over,  so  that  it  would  not  be  dif- 
ficult to  keep  snow  packed  on  it  to  prevent  the  fire 
scorching  it.  He  managed  to  sit  on  the  log,  crook- 
ing his  right  knee,  and  systematically  he  reached  for 
every  bare  branch  in  sight,  collecting  them  until  he 
had  a  goodly  pile  of  firewood,  and  the  small  branches 
overhead  were  so  well  cleared  away  that  there  would 
be  no  danger  of  the  whole  pile  catching  fire. 

Then  he  got  out  his  hunting  knife  and  made  a  few 
small  "  trees  "of  shavings,  cut  partially  off  from  the 
stick  and  curling  out  like  little  cedar  branches,  and 
these  he  sharpened  at  one  end  and  drove  into  clefts 
in  the  trunk  surface  dug  with  his  knife.  On  these 

120 


ESCAPE 

went  a  heap  of  small  twigs,  and  then  he  packed  a  wad 
of  snow  on  the  instep  of  his  boot. 

Carefully  striking  a  match,  he  strained  over  and 
touched  it  to  the  shavings.  They  took  fire  and 
burned  brightly,  as  he  added  larger  sticks  to  the  pile. 
Soon  a  small  fire  was  blazing  cheerily,  and  he  noted 
with  dawning  hope  that  the  side  of  the  pine  log  was 
ablaze,  too.  Then  the  snow  melted  and  ran  down 
off  his  boot,  and  his  foot  became  uncomfortably  hot, 
even  through  the  thick  wool  socks,  but  a  new  pack 
of  snow  remedied  that.  After  a  time  the  fire  burnt 
down  to  what  Sid  was  waiting  for,  a  small  bed  of 
live  coals,  which  ate  steadily  into  the  pine  log  and 
kept  its  surface  aglow.  Little  by  little  he  added 
sticks,  as  fast  as  the  coals  grew  to  ashes.  The  boy 
was  so  interested  in  his  experiment  that  he  hardly 
noticed  the  moon  rising  over  the  mountains,  but  his 
fast-diminishing  pile  of  firewood  was  getting  low, 
and  there  was  no  more  within  reach.  It  became  a 
race  between  the  fire  and  the  thickness  of  the  log. 
Measuring  the  charred  hollow  with  a  stick,  he  judged 
that  it  was  about  half  eaten  through. 

"Gosh!  Stuck  again!"  he  muttered  to  himself 
disconsolately.  "  I'd  give  anything  for  just  another 
armful  of  dried  branches !  "  He  kicked  out  of  the 

121 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

snow  charred  ends  that  had  dropped  loose  and  fallen 
off  the  trunk,  dried  them  carefully,  and  added  their 
ends  to  the  waning  fire,  but  in  time  they,  too,  gave 
out,  and  the  log  seemed  as  strong  as  ever. 

Slowly  the  last  bit  of  firewood  burnt  down,  and 
its  coals  died  to  white  ashes.  Sid  lay  back  in  the 
snow,  thinking  bitterly.  He  had  shot  his  last  bolt, 
and  all  the  high  hopes  of  trying  out  a  successful  idea 
had  come  to  naught.  The  steady  clink!  clink!  of  the 
cooling  embers  in  the  hollow  in  the  log  came  to  him 
like  a  death-knell  to  his  hopes. 

He  yelled  again  for  help,  bursting  his  lungs  with 
the  effort,  but  no  answer  came, —  save  the  distant 
"  Ahoo  —  ooo !  "  of  a  timber  wolf  somewhere  up  in 
the  mountains. 

"And  I  thought  I  could  put  over  something  on 
Big  John ! "  he  groaned  despondently.  "  Scotty 
and  I  are  just  babies  without  him!  Mistakes  in 
this  country  count  for  life  or  death  —  you  just  can't 
make  them,  and  get  away  with  it." 

Another  howl,  of  some  lone,  gaunt  timber  wolf, 
whispered  from  far  off  down  the  valley.  It  startled 
the  boy.  The  moon  was  up,  and  they  were  out  hunt- 
ing. Suppose  they  should  find  him  here!  The 
thought  added  desperation  to  his  movements  and, 

122 


ESCAPE 

reaching  out  in  the  dark,  his  hand  encountered  a 
large,  smooth  branch  that  he  had  tried  several  times 
before  without  being  able  to  more  than  sway  it.  He 
tugged  fiercely  at  it,  putting  every  last  ounce  of 
strength  he  had  into  it,  and  the  faintest  sort  of  a 
crack  at  its  base  rewarded  him! 

It  was  enough!  Like  an  electric  thrill  the  hope 
of  some  possible  escape  thrilled  through  him,  and 
he  tugged  yet  more  fiercely  at  it.  A  second  and 
louder  crack  came  from  its  junction  with  the  main 
trunk  of  a  tree  overhead.  He  swayed  and  bent  to  it, 
worrying  it  like  a  dog,  until  finally  the  branch  parted 
and  hung  but  by  a  stout  fiber  to  the  trunk.  Then  he 
twisted  it,  relentlessly,  until  it  came  free  in  his  hands. 
Feeling  along  it  in  the  dark,  he  realized  that  he  was 
possessed  of  a  sort  of  lever,  with  its  stub  end  form- 
ing a  powerful  fulcrum,  and  at  once  the  idea  of  pry- 
ing away  the  pine  log  flashed  into  his  mind.  Jab- 
bing it  with  all  his  strength  in  under  the  turn  of  the 
log,  he  heaved  away,  and  was  rewarded  by  just  the 
tiniest  lift  of  the  log.  The  tough  toe  of  the  branch 
was  of  hard  pine,  and  would  it  stand  the  intense 
pressure  he  could  put  on  it  again?  It  raised,  as  be- 
fore, and  he  kicked  fiercely  with  his  imprisoned  foot 
to  get  it  clear,  but  the  boot  was  far  too  large. 

123 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

But  it  gave  him  an  idea.  Unlacing  his  boot  clear 
down  to  the  ankle,  he  again  raised  the  log,  as  high  as 
his  strength  would  permit,  wiggled  frantically  with 
his  toes,  and  —  wrenched  his  bare  foot  out  of  the 
shoe! 

Free  at  last !  He  hopped  about  ecstatically  in  the 
snow,  and  then  drew  the  boot  out  the  other  way,  its 
soft  upper  leather  creasing  easily  through  the  hole. 
Then  he  put  on  the  moccasin,  with  a  thankful  heart, 
and  began  to  look  interestedly  about  for  a  way  to 
climb  out  of  the  log  jam.  The  first  thing  needed 
was  fire,  and  he  soon  had  one  going  again,  on  the  old 
spot  on  the  trunk.  With  its  light  he  planned  out  a 
possible  way  to  creep  through  the  tangle  of  roots  and 
limbs,  and,  making  a  torch  of  pine  faggots,  he  set 
out. 

It  turned  out  to  be  a  veritable  labyrinth,  with 
nearly  every  way  blocked  by  some  huge  bole  or  ob- 
stinate branch,  but,  after  a  long  climb,  with  many  an 
angle  and  turn,  he  was  on  top  of  the  whole  pile  of 
destruction,  singing  happily  and  entirely  his  old,  in- 
domitable self  again. 

Sid  set  off  down  hill,  and  after  a  time  came  to  the 
thick  spruces  that  lined  the  bed  of  the  noisy  brook  up 
which  they  had  come  from  the  ranger's  cabin.  Fol- 

124 


ESCAPE 

lowing  down  in  the  white  moonlight,  he  at  length 
reached  the  valley  flats,  and  started  through  the  thick 
lodgepole  pine  bottoms  for  camp.  He  cut  a  stout 
club,  half  expecting  an  encounter  with  a  timber  wolf, 
but  none  came  down  into  the  valley,  and  eventually 
he  ran  into  a  well-trodden  trail  and  came  upon  the 
horses,  pawing  for  elk  feed  in  a  mountain  meadow. 
The  gray  mare  and  Sandy  whickered  to  see  him, 
but  he  pressed  on  eagerly  for  camp. 

He  found  it  cold  and  empty  and  deserted.  It  was 
something  of  a  shock  not  to  find  even  Scotty  at  home, 
but  he  concluded  that  both  had  gone  off  looking  for 
him,  as  he  set  about  building  a  fire  in  the  cold  and 
clammy  stove. 

An  hour  later  a  low  Whoopee!  sounded  out  in  the 
snow-laden  timber  back  of  camp.  Sid  jumped  to  his 
feet  with  an  answering  yell,  but  a  spirit  of  mischief 
bade  him  tease  Big  John  for  not  succeeding  in  res- 
cuing him. 

"  Hi !  —  You  thar,  Sid  ?  "  called  a  shaky  voice,  in 
which  he  could  detect  a  keen  quaver  of  anxiety. 

"No,  it's  me— Scotty  — where's  Sid?"  called 
the  boy. 

"Oh  —  ! "  the  great  cow-man's  voice  broke  into 
a  bitter  sob, —  "  son  —  I  hate  to  tell  ye  —  but  —  he's 

125 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

gone.  Done  f  er !  —  Went  down  in  an  avalanche !  — 
What  will  his  father  say  to  me !  " 

"  Cut  it,"  interrupted  Sid,  all  sympathy  and  con- 
trition, "  it's  me  —  Sid, —  John." 

"  You !  "  delightedly.  "  Why,  you  ornery  cuss ! 
Le's  see  ye ! "  And  Big  John  dashed  forward  and 
wrung  the  boy's  hand,  slapping  and  cuffing  him,  out 
in  the  snow,  with  delight.  "  I  shore  thought  ye  was 
a  goner,  kid !  "  he  beamed.  "  Whar  was  ye,  any- 
how?" 

"  Oh,  I  had  a  bit  of  a  ride,"  said  Sid,  and  he 
started  in  to  tell  his  adventures,  but  the  cowman  cut 
him  short.  "  Yaas,  I  figgered  out  the  hull  thing. 
Got  up  to  whar  thet  Injun  went  and  did  his  dirty 
work,  and  then  I  seed  that  gret  pile  o'  timber  down 
below,  an'  it  didn't  look  like  to  me  that  ye  was  more'n 
a  dead  man  —  partic'larly  atter  I  fired  me  rifle 
twicet." 

"  I  heard  you,"  said  Sid,  "  and  yelled  my  head  off. 
Why  didn't  you  come  down  and  look  for  me?  " 

"  Waal,  son,  I  was  thet  sore  at  that  ornery  Injun, 
that  I  sot  right  off  on  his  trail,  vowin'  I'd  git  him  ef 
it  took  all  night !  Whoosh,  but  I  saw  red,  then,  kid ! 
But,  him  an'  the  other  feller  gin  us  the  slip,  up  in 
them  buttes,  and  got  away.  Then  Jim  and  me,  we 

126 


ESCAPE 

come  down  inter  thet  slide-basin,  lookin'  fer  ye,  and 
we  yelled  around  a  bit,  but  couldn't  find  nawthin'. 
Thet  was  about  an  hour  ago.  Jim,  he  went  home; 
an'  I  put  fer  camp  —  the  dejected-est  critter  thet  ever 
hung  his  head !  Shucks,  son !  —  but  I  was  powerful 
'shamed  o'  myself  fer  ever  lettin'  ye  out'n  my 
sight—" 

"  But  it's  all  right  now !  "  reassured  Sid,  as  they 
entered  the  tent. 

"  Shore  —  say,  whar's  Scotty  ?  —  he  been  off  an' 
up  to  some  fool  tricks,  too  ?  "  exclaimed  the  cowman, 
with  new  alarm  in  his  voice. 

"  Why,  I  thought  he  was  with  you !  "  shouted  Sid. 
"  Isn't  he  following  along  somewhere,  out  in  the  tim- 
ber?" 

"  Naw !     Course  he  ain't !     Now,  what  the  — •" 

"  Easy,  there,  old  settler ! "  laughed  Sid,  cutting 
the  worried  cowman  short.  "  He'll  be  in  before 
long  in  this  moonlight,  mark  me!  Or,  if  he  gets 
lost,  he'll  den  up  somewhere.  We've  often  planned 
how  we'd  do  it,  if  we  couldn't  get  back  by  nightfall. 
He's  entirely  able  to  take  care  of  himself,  John. 
And  he  simply  couldn't  have  run  into  those  outlaws, 
you  know." 

"  Waal  —  mebbe.  Shore  he  won't  run  traipsin' 
127 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

around  the  woods,  crazy-like,  in  the  dark?  Like 
some  of  them  sports  did  if  we  didn't  find  'em 
quick?  "  asked  Big  John  uneasily. 

"  Sure  as  I'm  standing  here ! "  smiled  Sid. 
"  Scotty  may  have  killed  his  elk  about  sundown,  and 
so  decided  to  camp  out  for  the  night  beside  the 
trophy.  He'd  build  a  bough  leanto,  cover  it  with 
snow  and  fill  it  inside  with  browse.  Then  he'd  build 
a  big  fire  in  front  and  make  himself  comfortable  — " 

" Waal  —  thet's  the  right  talk!"  said  Big  John, 
relieved.  "  The  major  and  the  doc  hev  trained  you 
boys  well,  I  see." 

"  Yep.  Don't  worry  about  Scotty,"  retorted  Sid, 
setting  a  pail  of  mulligan  on  the  stove. 

They  pulled  off  their  wet,  freezing  boots,  socks, 
breeches  and  underwear,  and  hung  them  on  the  dry- 
ing rope  around  the  stove,  while  Sid  regaled  Big 
John  with  the  story  of  his  adventure  in  the  ava- 
lanche. 

"  Say ! "  grinned  the  cowman,  after  Sid  had  got 
through,  "  I  ain't  a-goin*  to  worry  none  about  you, 
no  more, —  after  thet!  You  was  borned  to  be  hung, 
that's  what,"  he  shouted,  "  an'  ontil  yer  time  comes, 
nawthin'  ter  cheat  the  rope  kin  happen  to  ye !  " 

With  warm,  dry  clothing  and  the  cheerful  fire 
128 


ESCAPE 

radiating  from  the  stove,  they  were  warm  and  com- 
fortable in  a  short  time,  and  they  spent  the  evening 
planning  on  tracking  Scotty  on  the  morrow,  after 
which  they  would  take  up  the  trail  of  the  outlaws  and 
run  them  out  of  the  country.  But  twice  during  the 
night,  Sid  went  out  of  the  tent,  raised  the  major's 
heavy  .35,  and  fired  their  private  signal. 

Bang!  Bang!  Bang!  —  Bang!  roared  the  mighty 
voice  of  the  rifle  into  the  silence,  and  its  echoes  rum- 
bled and  reverberated  down  the  mountain  chain. 

But  no  faint,  distant  answer  came  to  their  waiting 
ears. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

WHEN  Scotty  once  realized  that  the 
Ring-Necked  Grizzly  proposed  to  re- 
main on  guard  under  the  spruce  until 
the  lad  either  fell  out  from  sleepiness  or  was  starved 
out,  he  set  his  wits  to  work.  His  eastern  camp  and 
trail  training  stood  him  in  good  stead  now,  and  he 
at  once  began  hacking  off  boughs  of  the  spruce  with 
his  belt  ax  until  he  had  a  good  platform  built  up  in 
the  tree.  On  it  he  stripped  a  thick  bed  of  browse, 
the  grizzly  watching  his  every  move  sullenly,  and 
now  and  then  charging  the  tree-trunk  in  a  rage.  The 
rifle  had  long  since  been  packed  down  in  the  snow  by 
his  huge  feet. 

Scotty  worked  fast,  for  night  was  coming  on.  He 
made  a  sort  of  wedge  tent  of  spruce  boughs,  leaned 
up  from  his  platform  over  a  radial  bough  overhead 
—  and  then  he  had  an  idea ! 

"  By  George  ? ' '  he  exclaimed,  "  the  ancient  gladi- 
ators used  to  fight  bears  with  spears,  in  the  arena, 

130 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

and  they  are  killed  that  way  now  in  the  European 
forests.     Why  not  a  spear  for  me  ?  " 

He  had  come  to  hate  that  bear  with  a  bitter  rage, 
that  grew  steadily  within  him,  and  he  no  longer 
feared  him.  He  trimmed  a  straight  spruce  bough, 
about  ten  feet  long.  To  it  he  lashed  his  hunting 
knife,  and,  armed  with  this  weapon,  he  descended 
confidently  to  the  lower  branches.  Alas,  for  Scotty ! 
He  did  not  know  that  a  grizzly  is  as  handy  with  his 
claws  as  a  baseball  catcher!  The  bear  rose  up  to 
meet  him,  eagerly,  grunting  and  snarling  and  paw- 
ing in  the  air  with  swift  strokes  that  would  fetch  out 
every  rib  in  a  man  if  the  stroke  went  home.  Scotty 
waited  for  a  favorable  instant,  and  then  made  a  sav- 
age thrust  at  the  bear's  throat.  With  the  swiftness 
of  a  lightning  flash  the  huge  paw  swept  across, 
caught  the  spear  head  as  a  catcher  will  nail  a  hot 
liner,  and  yanked  the  spear  out  of  Scotty's  hands! 
The  lad  was  thrown  headlong  forward,  so  sudden 
was  the  blow,  and  he  clutched  despairingly  at  the 
branch  and  hung  on  with  hands  and  feet,  while  the 
bear  leaped  up  savagely  and  Scotty  could  feel  the 
wind  of  his  strokes  just  under  his  hanging  back.  He 
whirled  himself  up  on  the  branch  and  lay  there 
panting. 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  Gosh !  It's  a  wonder  he  wouldn't  spank  me 
with  it!  "  laughed  the  Scottish  lad  to  himself,  with  a 
wry  smile.  "  Fat  chance  I'd  have,  down  there  with 
that  old  demon!" 

He  crept  back  to  the  trunk  and  ascended  to  his 
bough  shelter.  He  was  mad  clear  through.  The 
bear  had  beaten  him  easily,  in  the  very  first  round, 
and  his  hunting  knife  had  gone  to  join  the  rifle,  but 
Scotty's  mad  was  up,  and  he  was  determined  to  try 
something  else  before  night  came  down.  Fire  he 
dreaded ;  it  might  burn  up  his  one  refuge,  the  great 
tree.  Still,  the  snow  was  heavy  on  the  boughs,  and 
he  might  risk  throwing  a  brand. 

He  cut  some  browse  and  dried  the  rosiny  needles 
carefully  of  snow,  lashed  the  bundle  together,  and 
then  came  down  and  sat  himself  carefully  on  a  limb 
at  a  safe  distance  up.  Watching  the  brute  below 
him,  he  lit  the  feathery  ends,  waited  till  he  got  a 
good  flare,  and  then  hurled  it  with  all  his  force,  fair 
and  true,  right  at  the  open  jaws  of  the  grizzly. 
Ring-Neck  dodged,  like  a  prize  fighter  ducking  a 
swing,  and  the  brand  fell  blazing  to  the  snow,  where 
the  bear  pranced  around  it,  snorting,  but  chary  of 
touching  it. 

Scotty  shook  his  head.  "A  whole  bundle  of 
132 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

blazing  browse  dropped  on  him  might  frighten  him 
a  bit,  but  the  flare-up  might  get  the  tree  —  and  gee! 
She'd  go  up  like  a  candle,  and  then  where'd  I  be  ?  " 
he  ejaculated. 

iHe  dared  not  risk  his  belt  ax  in  another  encounter ; 
that,  and  his  clasp  knife  were  the  only  cutting  imple- 
ments he  had  left.  Bow  and  arrows  seemed  futile; 
at  least,  he  would  wait  until  morning  before  trying 
them.  There  were  some  nails  and  his  screw  calk 
wrench  in  his  ditty  bag,  of  which  he  might  fashion 
arrow  heads,  and  it  would  be  no  trick  to  make  a 
heavy  spruce  bow.  Then,  he  might  try  dropping  a 
heavy  deadfall,  made  of  the  top  shaft  of  the  spruce 
—  but  at  present  the  boy  decided  his  chief  business 
was  to  make  himself  comfortable  for  the  night.  He 
climbed  up  to  his  shelter,  chinked  a  few  wind  holes 
with  spruce  boughs,  took  off  his  outer  clothes  and 
sheep  fleece-lined  coat,  and  made  a  thick  covering  of 
them;  and  munched  some  emergency  chocolate  and 
dried  rockahominy. 

"  Golly  —  it's  not  so  worse !  "  he  laughed,  cheer- 
ily, as  he  felt  the  warmth  of  the  coverings  over  his 
curled-up  figure  and  slowly  became  drowsy  with  the 
heat.  "  The  boys  will  track  me  here  to-morrow  — - 
and  then,  Mister  Ring-Neck,  you'll  get  yours ! " 

133 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Night  fell  and  the  moon  came  up  as  he  dozed,  and, 
after  an  interminable  time,  the  Romp!  Romp!  Romp! 
—  Romp!  of  a  rifle,  echoing  up  from  some  distant 
valley  roused  him. 

"  There  goes  our  signal !  "  he  muttered  sleepily. 
"  Hope  they'll  stop  worrying  about  me."  And  he 
dozed  off  to  a  fitful  sleep  as  no  more  shots  awoke 
the  stillness. 

Next  morning  he  arose  at  daybreak  and  dressed. 
Looking  down,  he  saw  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly  was 
still  there.  He  had  not  left  the  tree  during  the  night, 
and  he  gave  a  savage  growl  as  soon  as  he  saw 
Scotty's  face  peering  down.  Mists  and  clouds  hung 
in  the  valleys,  and  high  overhead  mare's  tails  in  the 
sky  and  a  certain  steely  grayness  foretold  a  snow- 
storm or  a  blizzard. 

"  To-day's  the  day !  "  grinned  Scotty  cheerfully. 
"  They'll  get  here  about  ten;  I  sure'd  like  to  get  that 
old  boy  down  below  before  they  come  up ! " 

He  decided  not  to  depend  on  Big  John  and  Sid 
for  help,  but  to  try  to  work  out  his  own  plan  of 
escape.  He  could  see  clearly  now,  and,  what  was 
better,  could  think  clearly. 

"  The  rifle's  the  thing! "  he  exclaimed,  with  sud- 
den resolution.  "  If  I  can  only  get  that  back,  I've 

134 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

got  the  whole  game  in  my  hands  —  and  it's  the  only 
thing  to  try  for." 

He  climbed  down  and  looked  the  situation  over 
carefully.  The  weapon  lay  buried  deep  in  the  snow, 
but  the  butt  stuck  out  clearly,  with  a  little  bit  of  the 
trigger-lever  showing.  It  gave  the  boy  an  idea,  and 
he  went  back  and  cut  the  longest  bough  he  could  find, 
trimmed  it  carefully  and  drove  a  nail  into  the  little 
end  of  it,  slanting  backwards,  so  as  to  form  a  sort 
of  hook.  Then  he  took  off  his  stag  shirt  and  stuffed 
it  with  browse.  Taking  them  both  with  him,  he 
climbed  down  again  and  poised  the  long  lance  of  the 
bough  high  over  the  rifle  butt.  The  bear  was  be- 
low and  on  his  haunches,  looking  up  at  him  expect- 
antly. Suddenly  Scotty  threw  the  bundle  of  his  shirt 
as  far  out  into  the  snow  as  possible.  The  bear,  with 
a  snort  of  rage,  raced  out  to  it  and  threw  himself 
savagely  on  it  with  tooth  and  claw.  With  him  tem- 
porarily out  of  the  way,  Scotty  drove  down  his 
lance,  as  quick  as  lightning,  fair  and  true  through 
the  trigger-lever  and  hauled  up.  The  nail  caught  in 
the  steel  lever,  and,  with  a  yell  of  triumph,  he  hauled 
the  rifle  up,  the  bear  charging  back  and  slashing  fu- 
tilely  at  it  as  it  went  up  and  out  of  his  reach. 

"  Now,  who  is  master ! "  gritted  Scotty  exult- 
135 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

antly.     "  You  wait  till  I  get  a  clip  of  cartridges !  " 

He  climbed  up  the  tree  with  the  rifle,  but,  as  he 
did  so  there  came  the  sharp  whip  of  a  rifle-shot  from 
up  in  the  crags,  and,  with  a  howl  of  pain  the  bear 
turned  and  galloped  off  down  into  the  ravine.  An- 
other shot  spanged  out  as  Scotty  climbed  feverishly, 
hoping  to  get  in  a  shot  himself.  Then  two  men 
came  leaping  and  clambering  over  the  boulders  to- 
ward his  tree.  One  was  short  and  squat,  with  a 
breadth  of  shoulder  and  bow-legged  gait  that  looked 
Indian  to  Scotty,  and  the  second  man  was  tall  and 
rangy,  with  a  bushy,  brown  beard. 

The  Indian  stopped  and  pointed  at  the  tree;  his 
keen  eyes  had  already  detected  Scotty  in  the 
branches.  The  other  stopped  and  pointed  his  rifle 
at  Scotty. 

"  Hi  —  you !  "  he  called  out.  "  What  you  doin' 
up  there?" 

"  It's  all  right !  "  called  Scotty.  "  I've  been  treed 
by  that  bear  —  glad  you  came  — " 

"  No,  it  ain't  all  right  —  you  come  down  out  of 
thar,  and  let's  hev  a  look  at  ye!"  called  the  other 
menacingly. 

"  Let  me  go  get  my  coat  and  things  —  I've  been 
up  here  all  night,  I  tell  you! "  cried  Scotty.  "  We 

136 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

want  to  get  that  bear,  boys  — •  he  can't  have  gone 
far." 

"  You  drop  that  rifle,  if  you  don't  want  to  get 
hurt!  "  stamped  the  tall  man,  his  voice  ringing  like 
iron  in  the  frosty  stillness. 

"  All  right!  "  grinned  Scotty  obediently.  "  You 
fellows  will  sure  be  satisfied  when  I  get  down  and 
tell  you  all  about  it."  He  climbed  up  and  slipped 
on  his  coat  and  belted  on  the  little  ax.  Then  he 
came  down  and  dropped  to  the  snow.  "  Feels  good 
to  get  your  feet  on  good  old  mother  earth  again, — 
I  tell  you ! "  he  smiled,  looking  them  over  with  a 
friendly  grin. 

The  Indian  grunted  and  scrutinized  the  boy  ap- 
praisingly.  "Yaas?"  returned  the  tall  man  non- 
committally.  "That  yore  red  shirt?" 

Scotty  told  them  how  he  had  outwitted  the  bear, 
and  was  about  to  pick  up  his  rifle  when  the  Indian 
stopped  him  with  a  fierce  grunt. 

"  No  good!  "  he  said.  "  Boy,  no  touch!  "  His 
beady  black  eyes  bored  Scotty  suspiciously. 

"  Well,  I  got  to  get  back  to  camp,  some  day ! " 
burst  out  Scotty  wrath  fully.  "  You  aren't  going  to 
take  away  my  rifle,  are  you,  with  that  old  bear  at 
large,  probably  not  far  from  here  and  be- 

137 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

tween  me  and  our  base  camp,  down  there  ?  "  and  he 
pointed  down  the  mountain  to  the  west. 

The  tall  man  nodded  his  head,  convinced.  "  He's 
with  them  fellers  —  he's  one  of  them/'  he  muttered 
to  his  companion. —  "  Hands  up,  you !  "  he  barked 
suddenly,  covering  Scotty  with  his  rifle. 

Scotty  held  up  his  hands,  facing  him  indignantly. 
The  Indian  slipped  around  behind  him,  and  with  a 
sudden  wrench  brought  his  arms  back  and  pinned 
them  behind  him.  Then  he  lashed  them  fast  with 
a  thong  of  rawhide. 

"  You  got  to  go  along  with  us,  sonny,"  said  the 
tall  man  sternly.  "  Some  friends  o'  your'n  hev  been 
gittin'  fresh  with  us,  an*  we  can't  leave  you  around 
to  go  tellin'  'em  no  tales,  either !  " 

Scotty  shivered.  What  these  men  would  do  with 
him  he  could  only  conjecture.  To  tie  him  some- 
where in  the  snowy  forest,  or  to  lead  him  out  of  the 
country  to  some  unknown  vastness,  were  the  least  of 
the  possibilities  that  occurred  to  him.  They  could 
even  cut  his  throat  and  bury  him  in  the  snow,  where 
he  would  never  be  found  until  the  following  June  at 
the  earliest,  if  they  so  chose. 

The  tall  man  and  the  Indian  conferred  for  some 
time,  standing  still  in  their  tracks,  and  then  the  lat- 

138 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

ter  began  to  scout  around.  Scotty  noticed  that  he 
was  careful  to  step  only  in  the  tracks  that  the  boy 
himself  had  made,  and  then  he  began  to  sense  some 
glimmerings  of  their  plan  —  and  at  the  same  time  he 
began  to  cudgel  his  own  brains  for  a  scheme  to  beat 
them. 

Presently  the  Indian  came  back  and  grunted  a 
word  or  so  to  the  tall,  bearded  white.  "  Shove 
along,  thar,  son,"  ordered  the  latter,  "  an'  don't  start 
any  monkey  business,  or  I'll  burn  ye." 

The  Indian  drew  a  long  knife,  the  back  of  which 
he  drew  across  Scotty's  throat.  "  Boy,  step  in  own 
tracks,  plenty  careful !  "  he  rasped,  giving  the  boy  a 
dig  in  the  back  with  the  point  of  the  knife.  Obe- 
diently, Scotty  started  out.  The  Indian  goaded  him 
along,  back  over  his  own  footsteps  to  where  he  had 
first  shot  at  old  Ring-Neck,  and  then  along  the  old 
trail  which  led  out  back  across  the  ravines  and  boul- 
ders until  they  came  into  the  big  timber.  For  half 
a  mile  they  stepped  along,  the  boy  in  front,  the  others 
stepping  exactly  in  his  tracks.  That  they  faced  the 
wrong  way  one  would  hardly  note  in  the  deep  snow, 
Scotty  realized,  and  any  attempt  to  make  a  misstep 
was  greeted  with  hoarse  curses  from  the  Indian  and 
a  prod  from  his  knife. 

139 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

They  came  to  a  point  where  the  limb  of  a  giant 
balsam  hung  low  across  the  trail.  The  Indian 
stopped,  slipped  deftly  around  Scotty,  and  swung  up 
on  the  limb.  Then  the  tall  man  lifted  Scotty  up, 
and  between  the  two  of  them  they  got  him  along  the 
limb  to  the  trunk  and  out  on  the  other  side,  where 
they  slipped  down  again  to  the  snow. 

"  Thar,  sonny,  yore  friends  '11  have  shore  some 
fine  time  trackin'  y'u;  an',  jes'  to  make  shore,  we'll 
take  yo'  up  over  them  rocks  an'  lose  yo'  a  piece," 
grinned  the  big  man. 

The  Indian  grunted  and  led  on  uphill.  After  a 
long  climb  they  got  above  timber  line  and  came  out 
on  slopes  of  rocks,  which  the  wind  had  swept  bare 
of  snow.  Here  they  worked  along  carefully,  keep- 
ing always  to  bare  rocks,  turning  and  twisting  as  the 
going  led,  until  finally,  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge, 
they  left  the  rock  and  started  downward  through 
snow  to  timber  again. 

The  Indian  stopped  and  looked  at  Scotty  mean- 
ingly. Here  was  the  place  for  the  kill,  and  dead  men 
tell  no  tales,  was  the  plain  intention  in  his  glance. 
But  the  big  man  shook  his  head. 

"  We  gotta  do  better  than  that,  Joe,"  he  demurred. 
"  Gawd  knows  what  you  did  with  that  other  kid,  and 

140 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

I  ain't  goin'  to  risk  my  neck  fer  no  sech  foolish- 
ness, an*  you  know  it  — " 

"  Ugh !  —  T'row  him  over  rock  —  plenty  fall  — 
heap  kill  himself !  "  said  the  redskin  earnestly,  in- 
dicating a  deep  rocky  ravine  near  by. 

"  No,  we'll  jes'  tie  him  up  heah  an'  let  him  yell. 
Mebbe  them  fellers  find  him,  come  night,"  said  the 
tall  man.  "  I  can't  go  way  thinkin'  he  ain't  hed  no 
chance." 

The  Indian  grumbled  and  argued,  but  the  white 
was  obdurate.  "  Yo're  goin'  it  too  strong  fer  me, 
Joe,"  he  warned.  "  It's  bad  enough  shootin'  down 
them  critters  and  hevin'  the  law  on  us,  without 
reskin'  bein'  hung  fer  criminals,  besides.  You  ain't 
got  no  sense, —  nor  no  f  eelin's  neither !  "  he  snarled. 
"  Tie  him  up  or  lose  him  —  like  you  did  t'other  fel- 
ler." 

The  Indian  shrugged  his  shoulders,  grinning 
enigmatically,  as  the  tall  man  selected  a  big, 
straight  lodgepole  pine,  took  off  Scotty's  belt,  and 
strapped  it  around  the  tree,  and  then  the  Indian  tied 
his  bound  hands  to  it  with  many  turns  of  rawhide. 

"  So  long,  kid ! "  said  the  tall  man,  slinging 
Scotty's  rifle  far  into  the  brush,  after  a  heated  argu- 
ment with  the  Indian  about  the  advisability  of  tak- 

141 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

ing  it  along.     "  I'd  tarn  ye  loose,  ef  we  dared  to 
it.     Hope  yore  friends  find  ye !  " 

They  set  off  down  the  mountain,  leaving  Scotty 
to  plan  out  some  way  of  escape.  It  was  hardly 
eight  o'clock  yet,  and  the  boy  felt  cheerful  and  not 
particularly  downcast,  for  he  felt  sure  that  Big 
John  would  not  be  fooled  by  the  clumsy  trail  ruse, 
if  indeed  he  did  not  notice  it  as  soon  as  they  passed 
under  the  balsam.  At  the  most  it  would  not  be  half 
a  day  before  they  would  come. 

Then  he  felt  behind  him  to  see  how  he  was  se- 
cured. The  belt  had  been  strapped  tight  to  the  tree, 
and  around  it  went  the  turns  of  the  rawhide  thongs. 
His  fingers  were  free,  but  he  could  feel  no  signs  of 
the  buckle.  That  was  the  weak  point.  If  he  could 
once  get  his  fingers  on  it.  ... 

He  strained  and  heaved  at  it  some  time,  without  re- 
sult. Then,  writhing  and  twisting  around,  he  made 
an  interesting  discovery.  Being  lithe  and  slender, 
he  found  that  he  could  twist  his  body  so  as  to  bring 
his  breeches  pocket  within  range  of  his  fingers.  It 
took  a  lot  of  perseverance,  but  Scotty  was  long  on 
perseverance,  and  he  finally  managed  to  work  up 
the  flat  of  his  coat  and  get  his  fingers  inside  the 
pocket. 

142 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

"  Cracky!  "  yelled  Scotty,  jubilantly,  as  he  felt  the 
warm  pocket-knife  in  his  hands.  "  Those  fellows 
were  dubs!  I'll  be  out  of  here  in  a  minute,  and  I 
had  better  be  quick  about  it,  too,  as  that  Indian 
might  come  back.  He  looked  bad !  —  Gosh,  but 
he  wanted  to  kill  me !  "  he  laughed,  nervously,  at  the 
recollection. 

With  the  utmost  care  lest  he  should  drop  the  knife, 
he  worked  at  the  blades  with  his  fingers,  until  finally 
the  small  one  clicked  open.  Cutting  and  nicking 
with  it  at  the  belt,  he  felt  it  loosen,  and  with  a 
swift  tug  he  was  free! 

"  Wheel  —  now  for  the  rifle !  "  he  gloated,  swing- 
ing his  arms  to  restore  the  circulation  in  his  wrists. 
A  search  over  in  the  direction  whence  it  had  been 
thrown  soon  rewarded  him,  and,  blowing  the  snow 
out  of  its  barrel  and  putting  in  a  clip  of  cartridges, 
he  set  off  up  the  hill  following  his  own  tracks. 

It  was  easy  going  up  to  the  rocks  above  timber 
line,  and  the  boy  pushed  along  confidently.  He 
reached  the  bare  ledge  where  they  had  started  down 
to  the  timber,  and  from  there  on  he  began  to  depend 
on  his  memory.  He  hurried  along,  convinced  that 
he  recognized  seemingly  familiar  rock  formations, 
places  where  they  had  skipped  drifts,  but  the  lay  of 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

the  mountains  became  more  and  more  unfamiliar. 
Again  and  again  he  hurried  over  to  a  bare  slope 
of  rocks  with  a  snowbank  fringing  it,  only  to  find 
its  edge  smooth  and  bare  of  tracks. 

Then  he  saw  a  coulee  or  bare  chimney  buttes  that 
he  was  sure  they  had  come  through,  and  down  it  he 
went.  Below  was  a  snowy  hillside,  with  the  timber 
skirting  its  lower  edge. 

"  This  was  the  place ! "  he  muttered  confidently. 
"  Right  here  was  where  we  took  off  from  the  snow, 
as  sure  as  I'm  standing  here ! " 

But  not  a  track  showed  anywhere  on  the  slope! 

"  Gosh  —  I'm  lost !  "  ejaculated  Scotty.  "  Have 
to  give  it  up,  I  guess,  and  work  back  to  camp  by 
compass." 

He  sat  down  and  tried  to  map  out  his  wanderings, 
but  then  he  recalled  that  he  had  no  idea  where  he  was 
when  he  shot  at  the  bear.  There  was  no  place  that 
would  do  for  a  fixed  starting  point.  It  was  easy  to 
draw  a  map  of  their  own  valley  and  the  ranges  along 
both  sides  of  it, —  but  where  was  he  with  reference 
to  that  valley? 

"  Well,  it  lies  somewhere  to  the  west,  that's  sure," 
he  decided,  "  for  I  went  east  when  I  started  after 
that  first  elk,  and  I  haven't  crossed  the  valley  since." 

144 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

He  found  himself  in  a  mighty  basin,  bounded  on 
the  south  by  the  saw-teeth  of  snowy  peaks,  and  to 
the  west  by  a  veritable  canyon,  a  garden  wall  two 
thousand  feet  high,  seemingly  unclimbable.  Hoping 
to  scale  it  somewhere,  the  boy  pushed  on,  while  light 
snowflakes  scurried  down  thinly.  The  air  had  the 
steely  haze  of  a  blizzard,  and  he  dimly  realized  that 
something  was  going  to  happen  with  the  weather, 
so  he  worked  down  to  the  shelter  of  the  timber,  in- 
stinctively. The  going  was  rough  here,  with 
thickets  and  down  timber  blocking  the  way  in  every 
direction,  and  Scotty  pushed  on  slowly.  He  saw  a 
snowshoe  hare  squatting  under  a  spruce,  and  again 
the  instinct  not  to  pass  up  a  chance  for  food  came 
to  his  rescue,  and  he  stopped  and  killed  it  with  an 
auxiliary  cartridge. 

Then,  out  of  the  stillness  of  the  mountains,  came 
a  distant  roar.  Even  Scotty's  unpracticed  ears  could 
tell  that  it  was  moving,  coming  nearer.  He  could 
not  see  for  any  distance  through  the  forest,  but  he 
guessed  it  must  be  some  sort  of  a  wind  storm,  or  a 
blizzard,  such  as  the  major  and  his  own  father  had 
often  described.  He  made  for  a  thick  clump  of 
spruces,  abandoning  any  thought  of  pushing  on  fur- 
ther. Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  roar,  sweeping 

145 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

swiftly  up  the  basin,  and  then  the  spruces  overhead 
began  to  whip  and  bend,  and  a  white  pall  of  snow 
filled  the  forest. 

Scotty  was  not  particularly  frightened.  The  love 
of  the  forest  was  born  in  him;  also  the  confidence 
that  he  could  make  himself  comfortable  under 
almost  any  circumstances. 

"  What's  the  weather  got  to  do  with  it,  anyway !  " 
he  laughed,  talking  to  himself.  "  Glad  I  came  down 
from  the  ledges!  I  read  about  a  fellow  that  got 
caught  up  there  once  in  a  blizzard  and  like  to  have 
frozen  to  death."  He  set  to  work  rolling  snowballs, 
to  form  a  sort  of  snow  wall  arranged  in  a  V  under 
the  shelter  of  the  spruce,  and  then  cut  and  dragged 
in  a  slender  pole  of  lodgepole  pine,  which  he  drove 
into  the  earth  on  a  long  slant,  resting  the  outer 
end  on  a  stub  that  forked  out  from  a  neighboring 
pine  trunk.  Over  this  he  shingled  spruce  boughs 
until  he  had  a  sort  of  bear's  den,  facing  outward 
from  the  spruce  with  its  back  to  the  wind.  Then 
he  went  out  into  the  storm,  knocked  off  the  snow 
from  a  couple  of  young  balsams  and  dragged  them 
to  camp.  With  the  browse  shingled  off  these  he 
made  a  deep  bed  on  the  floor  of  his  hut,  and  then 
started  cutting  and  hauling  in  dead  pines  for  fire 

146 


CAPTURED  BY  THE  OUTLAWS 

wood.  He  built  a  backlog  fire  out  in  front  of  his 
den  and  touched  her  off.  Immediately  he  had  a 
cheerful  blaze,  six  feet  high,  and  so  he  began  skin- 
ning and  cleaning  the  hare. 

"There,  by  gorry,  let  her  blizz!"  he  chuckled, 
sizzling  a  chunk  of  rabbit  quarters  over  the  fire. 
"  Some  day,  some  how, —  I'll  find  my  way  back  to 
camp !  And,  when  this  blows  out,  danged  if  I  don't 
try  a  three-fire  smoke  signal." 


CHAPTER  IX 
MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

GIT  up  an'  git  yore  things  on,  old-timer!" 
grunted  Big  John  out  of  the  darkness, 
inside  the  main  tent.  "We  got  a  long, 
tough  day  ahead  of  us,  I'm  settin'  here  to  tell  ye !  " 

He  lit  the  candle  lantern  as  Sid  stirred  lazily  in 
his  warm  fur  sleeping  bag.  The  boy  yawned  and 
then  sat  up  hurriedly  with  a  shock  of  recollection, 
as  he  realized  that  Scotty  had  not  come  back  during 
the  night. 

"  Well,  the  sandy  kind !  He  denned  out  some- 
where last  night,  eh, —  good  for  Scotty !  " 

"  Yaas,  ef  he  ain't  gone  an*  done  no  thin'  foolish, 
he'll  be  all  right,"  grumbled  Big  John,  lighting  up 
the  tent  stove. 

"  Don't  you  worry,  John ;  that  boy's  got  more 
sand  than  a  river  bar,"  said  Sid,  lacing  up  his  hunt- 
ing boots.  He  greased  them  with  elk  fat  and  then 
set  about  mixing  flapjack  batter.  They  cooked  a 
monumental  feed,  and  put  away  two  days'  rations 
for  three,  together  with  the  pup  tent,  in  a  small 

148 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

ruck-sack.  Then  Sid  belted  on  Big  John's  ax,  and 
they  were  ready. 

"Packing  your  gun,  John?"  asked  Sid,  curi- 
ously, as  the  huge  cowman  put  on  his  cartridge  belt 
outside. 

"  Yaas.  A  feller  don't  never  take  both  his  gat 
and  an  ax.  You'll  tote  mine  this  trip,  I'm  think- 
in'/'  returned  Big  John. 

They  set  off  up  the  valley,  trailing  Scotty's  tracks. 
After  a  mile  or  so  they  turned  off  up  a  ravine. 
"  Got  tired  of  the  valley,  eh?  —  waal,  he's  larnt  that 
the  game  is  usually  in  the  high  timber,  anyhow," 
grinned  Big  John  as  they  followed  on. 

It  led  on  up,  through  tough  going  and  over  the 
small  avalanche  basin,  Big  John's  estimates  of 
Scotty's  grit  rising  steadily  as  each  evidence  showed 
up  in  the  snow.  "  Danged  if  he  ain't  a  real  game 
li'l  rooster  though  —  I'll  say  so ! "  exclaimed  Big 
John  as  he  studied  the  tracks.  "  He  ain't  goin'  to 
loose  thet  elk  nohow !  " 

"  Cracky !  He's  got  into  wonderful  game  coun- 
try, here!"  cried  Sid,  looking  about  him  as  they 
came  into  the  big  green  timber.  "  Look  at  those 
tracks!" 

"  Shore !  Wait  —  he's  slowed  up,  here ;  see  them 
149 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

leetle  steps?  Thar  —  here  he  fired!  Them's  his 
two  feet,  planted  like  rocks,  and  yon's  the  empty 
shell  stickin'  in  the  snow.  Missed!  See,  here  he's 
fell  all  over  himself !  "  They  hurried  on  to  where 
the  elk  had  crossed  his  tracks  spurting  up  the  snow 
at  a  full  speed  trot. 

"  Now  he  don't  know  what  to  do ! "  guffawed 
Big  John.  "  He's  lost,  an'  walking  round  in  circles. 
Thar  he  goes,  across  the  ravine  an'  up  thet  hill  — 
waal,  c'mon,  we'll  git  you  yet, —  dern  ye !  " 

They  swarmed  up  the  hillside  and  followed  on 
into  the  flat  table  land,  where  the  great  spruces  and 
balsams  hung  silent  and  heavy-laden  with  festoons 
of  snow. 

"  Thunder !  What  a  game  country !  "  sighed  Sid, 
glancing  longingly  at  the  fresh  tracks  that  con- 
tinually crossed  Scotty's  trail.  "  Hi !  —  Here  he's 
got  a  monster  elk !  " 

They  stopped  to  examine  the  story,  written  in 
the  snow,  of  where  Scotty  had  come  across  the  giant 
elk  track.  "I  know  whar  he'll  head  fer!"  ex- 
claimed Big  John  suddenly.  u  They'se  a  sort  of  elk 
park  up  under  the  mountain  tops,  about  two  miles 
from  here.  We'll  jest  cut  across  this  ridge  an'  make 
a  short  cut  to  it  • — •  thet's  whar  we'll  find  the  lad  an* 

150 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

his  big  elk.  He's  camped  out  at  the  kill,  most 
likely.  We  oughtta  see  a  smoke,  soon." 

They  abandoned  the  track  and  kept  on  along  the 
ridge,  Sid  protesting  vigorously,  for  he  did  not 
wish  to  lose  the  only  clew  they  had  on  the  where- 
abouts of  his  chum.  But  Big  John  was  entirely  sure 
of  himself,  and  anyway,  he  explained,  they  would 
back-track  and  pick  up  the  trail  if  he  was  wrong. 

Later  they  crossed  a  deep  ravine,  with  a  brook 
tumbling  down  through  it,  and  then  the  steepest  sort 
of  going,  climbing  over  burnt  and  down  timber, 
with  boulders  tumbled  about  in  wild  confusion,  and 
the  silent  beetling  crags  frowning  down  on  them 
close  by. 

"  Hyar  he  is ! "  called  Big  John  from  a  vantage 
point.  "That's  the  dead  elk  — Oh,  Scotty! 
Whoopee!  Oh, —  Scotty!  "  he  yelled. 

There  was  no  answer,  nor  any  sign  of  a  brush 
hut,  or  of  the  boy  himself.  They  plowed  over  to 
the  elk  carcass,  a  lordly  seven-pointer,  who  lay  on 
his  side,  frozen  stiff,  one  great  antler  sticking  up 
from  the  snow. 

"B'ar! — B'ar  tracks!  —  the's  been  a  bird  of  a 
fight  yeabouts !  "  shouted  Big  John  as  they  came  up. 
"  Look  at  th'  snow,  all  tromped  up,  Sid  1 " 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  Some  battle !  Look  at  the  claw  marks  on  his 
shoulder ! "  agreed  Sid,  pointing  to  the  red  claw 
wales,  with  the  stiff  trickle  of  blood  lost  in  the  matted 
hair, — "  Scotty  wasn't  in  on  this  at  all." 

"  Yes,  he  war  —  heah's  a  bullet  hole  —  busted  the 
elk's  neck.  Here's  whar  th'  b'ar  jumped  an'  charged 
some  one  —  Zam !  —  he  did  shore  come !  He's  got 
hit  here  —  see  the  blood  in  the  snow  — "  they  were 
both  running  fast,  now,  following  the  galloping 
tracks  of  the  bear. 

Then. —  "Oh!"  choked  Sid,  stopping  as  he 
spied  a  red  shirt  in  the  snow  ahead.  "  Oh !  —  Poor, 
poor  Scotty ! " 

Big  John  threw  his  rifle  forward,  "  Stiddy,  now ! 
Thet  b'ar  might  be  round  yeah  yet  —  Hi!  Look 
up  in  th'  spruce !  " 

Sid  followed  his  finger,  up  a  brush  heap  of  green 
boughs,  far  up  in  the  branches.  "  Scotty !  Scotty ! 
Come  down !  "  he  yelled. 

"  Ain't  no  use  doin'  that ! "  growled  Big  John. 
"  He'd  ha'  seen  us  long  ago  an'  yelled  ef  he  war  up 
than  We  gotta  piece  this-yer  out." 

He  walked  over  and  kicked  the  red  shirt  out  of 
the  snow.  "  Whoosh !  —  why,  th'  game  little 
rooster!  He's  done  put  somethin'  over  on  that 

152 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

b'ar !  "  he  cried.  "  An'  heah's  more  tracks  —  them 
elk-tooth  men!  See  that  moccasin  —  I'd  know  it 
in  a  thousand !  Say,  boy  —  lot's  doin'  hyar !  " 

"  Looks  like  they  got  Scotty,"  said  Sid.  "  I  fig- 
ure it,  the  bear  treed  him,  and  he  spent  the  night  up 
there.  Then  he  dropped  this  shirt  —  and, —  sure! 
—  got  back  his  rifle!  Then  the  elk  men  captured 
him,  somehow — " 

"  Waal  —  here's  whar  they  went !  "  said  Big  John. 
"But,  I  don't  see  none  of  the  lad's  tracks.  We 
gotta  circle." 

They  fetched  a  large  circle,  but,  aside  from  the 
swift,  galloping  tracks  of  the  grizzly  in  his  -final  re- 
treat, no  signs  of  Scotty  could  they  find. 

"Cracky!  He  didn't  get  here  in  an  aeroplane, 
that's  certain !  "  said  Sid,  mystified.  "  But  there's 
none  of  his  tracks  here,  either  in  or  out!  " 

"  Yaas  —  they  took  him  out,  that's  what  they  did ! 
They  walked  him  on  ahead,  an'  then  stepped  in  his 
tracks,"  declared  Big  John.  "  C'mon  —  the  kid's 
shore  a  prisoner,  like  you  was,  son." 

There  was  a  note  of  anxiety  in  his  voice  that 
touched  Sid,  and  he  imagined  all  sorts  of  fates  that 
might  happen  to  his  chum. 

"  We  gotta  look  sharp,  ol'  timer,"  said  Big  John 
153 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

as  they  pushed  along.  "  Them  fellers'll  snake  him 
up  the  nearest  tree  or  rock  ledge  that  they  pass  on 
this  trail.  Watch  sharp,  now !  " 

They  hurried  along,  eyes  glued  on  the  trail  ahead, 
while  Sid  scanned  anxiously  every  possible  means 
for  leaving  it.  "  Look!  "  he  called. 

"Hyar's  th'  place!"  exulted  Big  John.  "Say, 
them  fellers  is  easy !  See  the  snow  all  shook  off  that 
bough?  Here's  whar  they  h'isted  him." 

They  followed  through  the  spruce,  and  then  the 
trail  made  off  uphill.  "  Now  thet  Injun'll  put  in 
some  dirty  work  again ! "  growled  Big  John  fero- 
ciously. "  See  them  rock  buttes  up  yonder?  — 
thet's  whar  they  loose  him  I  —  I  knew  he  wouldn't 
let  him  off  so  easy ! " 

"Case  of  fetch  a  big  circle?"  suggested  Sid. 
"  What  say  we  start  right  now,  and  work  around 
the  snow  edge  ?  " 

"  Good  idee,  son,  they'll  hev  to  come  down  some- 
where —  unless  they  done  f er  him  somewhere  up  in 
th'  cliffs." 

They  floundered  along  under  the  ledge  below 
timber  line  turning  its  flank  at  length  and  working 
into  a  deep  lonely  valley. 

"Hi!  Thar  they  be!"  called  Big  John,  who 
154 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

was  in  the  lead.  "  Hyar's  three  tracks  comin*  down 
an'  one  goin'  up  —  an'  —  zooks!  —  It's  Scotty's! 
He  give  'em  the  slip !  " 

"  Let's  follow  down  a  bit  and  see  what  happened," 
ventured  Sid,  curiously.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  he  was 
some  kid,  though !  "  he  cried  joyously. 

"Shore  is!"  agreed  Big  John  emphatically,  as 
they  plowed  downhill.  "  Hyar !  Thar's  whar  they 
tied  him  to  a  tree — left  him  to  yell,  eh!  The 
danged  skunks !  See  them  tracks  ?  —  they's  clar  as 
daylight!" 

"Got  himself  loose,  somehow  —  and  here  he's 
gone  and  got  back  his  rifle  1 "  yelled  Sid,  with  whoops 
of  joy.  "  After  him  —  John !  " 

They  raced  up  hill.  "  We  gotta  hurry,  old  settler, 
thar's  a  big  snow  a'comin',  an'  then  thar  won't  be 
no  more  tracks." 

Soon  they  reached  the  rock  buttes  where  Scotty 
himself  had  left  the  snow. 

"Here's  whar  the  lad  loses  us!"  growled  Big 
John.  "  He's  tryin'  to  find  his  own  back-track,  for 
he  don't  know  whar  he  is." 

Here  and  there  a  chance  track  in  the  snow  clefts 
aided  them,  but  it  was  a  slow,  hard  work,  with 
much  anxious  consultation,  many  false  leads  and 

155 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

many  circlings  with  only  a  clew  now  and  then  to  give 
them  Scotty's  direction. 

"  He's  lost  and  wandering,  himself  —  that's  my 
guess,"  said  Sid.  "  That  last  footprint  faced  south, 
and  he  ought  to  have  kept  on  west." 

"  Yaas  —  we're  in  fer  it ! "  agreed  Big  John,  as 
the  baffling  prints  led  them  more  and  more  to  the 
south  along  the  ridge.  "  We  gotta  give  it  up,  soon, 
sonny,  an'  seek  shelter  ourselves,  fer  when  thet  bliz- 
zard hits  us  it's  no  time  to  be  up  here, —  we'll  shore 
freeze  to  death." 

A  sea  of  great,  snowy  sawteeth  surrounded  them, 
piling  on  endlessly  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 
It  seemed  hopeless  to  track  Scotty  further,  and  more 
and  more  menacing  grew  the  sky  overhead,  while 
the  wind,  always  strong,  began  to  shriek  through  the 
rock  chimneys.  They  had  about  decided  to  stop 
and  build  a  smoke  signal  when  Sid  halted  suddenly. 

"  Gosh  —  what  a  peach  of  a  shot !  "  he  exclaimed, 
regretfully.  He  pointed  across  the  peaks  to  where 
a  lone,  sentinel,  big-horn  ram  stood  silhouetted 
against  the  white  snow.  He  was  at  least  a  mile 
away,  to  the  west,  and  would  require  a  long,  careful 
stalk. 

"  I  got  a  hunch  that  the  good  Lord  sent  thet  thar 
156 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

animile  fer  a  sign,"  quoth  Big  John,  solemnly.  "  I 
ain't  superstitious, —  but  he's  sommat  to  the  west, 
an'  it's  reasonable  thet  by  now  the  kid  would  hev 
begun  to  work  west  by  compass.  Let's  go  git  him." 

They  dodged  down  behind  the  ridge  and  worked 
along  it,  and  then  down  into  the  valley  by  a  hog's 
back  covered  with  timber.  The  ram  was  much 
nearer  now,  far  above  them,  on  the  opposite  moun- 
tain, but  a  ravine  led  up,  and  into  this  they  plunged, 
working  upward  out  of  sight.  After  a  long  stalk, 
peering  cautiously  over  a  boulder,  they  made  him  out 
again,  still  standing  like  a  sentinel  statue,  about 
eight  hundred  yards  off. 

"  Gotta  bellywop  him,"  declared  Big  John,  slid- 
ing his  great  length  down  into  the  snow.  Like  a 
pair  of  snakes  they  wormed  along  through  the  boul- 
ders, not  daring  to  raise  their  heads,  until  Big  John 
judged  that  they  had  come  up  to  within  three  hun- 
dred yards.  Then  he  raised  his  head  stealthily  and 
lowered  it  again.  "  Git  off  yore  mitt,  son ;  ye  can 
shoot  him  from  here.  We  cain't  git  any  closter 
without  him  seein'  us." 

Sid  bit  off  his  mitt  with  his  teeth,  and  raised  the 
rifle,  level  and  careful.  The  ram  did  not  move,  as 
he  took  a  long,  slow  aim,  the  bright,  square  bead 

157 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

resting  just  under  his  shoulder.  At  the  roar  of  the 
big  .35,  the  ram  leaped,  staggered  convulsively  up- 
hill, fell  to  the  snow,  and  rolled  over  and  over  down 
into  the  depths,  fetching  up  on  a  rock  slide,  a  hun- 
dred feet  below.  They  watched  him  for  further 
movement,  and  then  planned  a  way  to  get  down  to 
him. 

"  Peach  of  a  shot,  son, —  an'  ye  didn't  git  excited 
a  leetle  bit !  "  said  Big  John,  admiringly.  "  C'mon 
—  we  gotta  work  fast" 

They  crept  and  slid  down  the  crags,  and  at  last 
came  to  the  ram.  Suddenly  Big  John's  rifle  bel- 
lowed, nearly  splitting  Sid's  ear  drums,  so  close 
was  it 

"  Catamount !  —  see  him !  "  he  cried.  "  Made  off 
through  them  rocks  up  thar.  We  wasn't  the  only 
critters  huntin'  this  old  boy ! " 

They  looked  for  some  time,  and  Sid  waited  while 
Big  John  climbed  cautiously,  his  rifle  at  a  ready. 
After  a  while  he  came  back. 

"  Missed  him,  I'm  figgerin'.  We  ain't  no  time  to 
track  him  further.  We  got  to  skin  out  this  ram  and 
git  down  to  timber  right  sudden,  pronto ! " 

They  worked  swiftly  and  soon  had  the  head  off, 
and  a  thick  heavy  bag  of  bighorn  fur  rolled  up  in 

158 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

a  bundle.  With  the  heavy  loads  of  meat  and  skin, 
they  staggered  down  hill,  while  the  approaching  bliz- 
zard could  be  seen  sweeping  down  the  valley  like  a 
white  wall  of  cloud.  It  burst  on  them  with  full 
fury,  as  Sid  dragged  the  hind  quarters  of  the  ram 
in  the  skin  and  Big  John  stepped  along  with  the 
ribs  and  head  balanced  over  either  shoulder. 

"Ain't  goin'  to  leave  thet  meat  fer  no  cat  to 
chaw,  nohow ! "  he  grunted,  doggedly,  stumbling 
uncertainly  down  hill  through  the  whirling  snow- 
flakes.  "  Mountain  mutton's  mighty  fine,  I'm  settin* 
here  to  tell  you." 

They  reached  a  clump  of  gnarly,  twisted  Alpine 
pines,  at  last,  deposited  their  loads,  and  got  out  the 
pup  tent,  which  they  managed  to  anchor  against 
the  wind  with  snow  and  rocks.  Inside  they  spread 
the  skin  of  the  ram  on  a  pile  of  browse,  and  then 
set  about  collecting  firewood  from  the  dead  timber 
all  about.  Soon  a  sock  drying  fire  was  going  out 
in  front  of  the  tent,  and  mutton  chops  from  the  ram 
were  sizzling  over  the  coals. 

"  Pretty  soft !  "  laughed  Sid  from  his  warm  coop 
inside  the  tent,  twiddling  his  bare  toes  in  the  ram's 
fur.  "Wonder  how  Scotty's  making  out  in  all 
this?" 

159 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Big  John  hee-hawed  at  him,  cheerily,  through  the 
whirling  snowflakes.  "  Him  ?  —  Say  thet  thar  lit- 
tle game  chicken'll  jest  eat  this,  after  all  he's  been 
through  —  an'  made  good.  I'm  shore  proud  o'  you 
boys;  yore  pappies  needn't  feel  none  ashamed  of  ye 
either!" 

Sid  munched  steak  and  cold  corn  pone  as  he 
tended  the  socks.  They  must  be  watched  carefully, 
just  hot  enough  and  not  too  hot,  for  a  scorched 
sock  is  a  "  goner."  The  steam  smoked  up  from 
their  surfaces,  and  after  a  time  they  were  dry  and 
ready  to  put  on  again.  Then  he  went  out  and  rolled 
snowballs  until  they  had  a  sort  of  snow  cave  on 
each  side  of  the  tent,  with  the  fire  blazing  in  front. 

Night  came  quickly,  and,  spreading  the  wool  coats 
under  them,  they  wrapped  the  ram  skin  about  them, 
backed  up,  and  dozed  off  to  sleep. 

Sid  slept  like  a  log,  but,  perhaps  two  hours  later, 
he  was  awakened  by  a  sudden  shout  from  Big  John, 
and  a  violent  wrench  as  he  sat  up  in  the  dark.  The 
hoarse,  ropy,  caterwaul  of  a  panther  was  ringing 
in  his  ears  as  he  grabbed  for  the  rifle  at  his  side,  and 
then  the  crash  of  Big  John's  rifle  split  the  night,  as 
a  streak  of  fire  shot  out  from  its  muzzle.  It  was 
still  snowing  hard,  and  out  in  the  dark,  Sid  imag- 

160 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

ined  he  saw  the  dim,  bounding  shape  of  the  great 
cat  making  off  up  towards  the  rocks. 

"Varmint!"  rasped  Big  John,  throwing  in  an- 
other shell.  "  He  was  an  oP  he-one,  fer  sartain ! 
Le's  see  what  he  got  away  with." 

He  bulked  out  of  the  tent  and  presently  announced 
that  the  hind  quarters,  cached  up  in  a  tree  were  gone. 
"  No  use  doin'  anythin'  about  it  to-night.  He  won't 
come  back  —  he'll  jes'  git  up  yander  in  the  buttes 
an'  chaw  up  them  hams.  I  don't  think  I  hit  him. 
Couldn't  see  nawthin',  nohow." 

They  rolled  up  sleepily  and  dozed  off  again.  Sid 
slept  fitfully,  with  half  an  ear  open  for  a  return  of 
the  prowler.  Twice  he  was  certain  that  something 
moved,  just  outside  the  tent,  and  nudged  Big  John, 
but  the  latter  only  grunted  and  went  to  sleep  again. 

Next  morning  the  blizzard  was  over  and  the 
mountains  a  panorama  of  rosy  hues  in  the  light  of 
the  dawn.  They  packed  up  the  tent  and  cached  the 
trophies  in  a  tree,  as  it  would  be  easy  to  back-track 
to  them. 

"Hi!  Sid!—  I  did  hit  him  — what  do  ye 
know ! "  called  back  Big  John,  who  was  on  ahead 
and  standing  over  the  cougar  tracks.  "  He  fetched 
a  circle  clar  round  the  tent,  last  night,  an'  then  he 

161 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

grabbed  our  meat  an'  run.  Hyar's  blood, —  an* 
hyar  he  loped  along,  totin'  them  hams  in  his  mouth, 
—  c'mon." 

They  followed  the  tracks  into  the  crags.  They 
led  on  along  the  ridge,  through  the  roughest  of 
coulees  and  chimneys  among  the  buttes,  but  the 
cougar  had  not  stopped,  except  now  and  then  to 
set  down  his  meat  and  lick  at  the  wound. 

"  He's  got  a  den  somewhere,  or  he'd  ha'  stopped 
an'  et  it  afore  now,"  declared  Big  John,  judgmati- 
cally.  "  Hyar  he's  agoin'  down  hill." 

They  pressed  on,  following  the  broad  pugs  in  the 
snow.  All  the  world  was  smooth,  snowy  white- 
ness, and  a  trackless  blanket  of  untroubled  drifts 
stretched  downward  from  the  rocks.  The  trail 
turned  under  the  flank  of  tall  chimney  buttes  that 
jutted  up  high  overhead,  and  the  going  became  rough 
and  boulder-strewn,  but  still  the  tracks  led  on. 
Down  below  a  talus  of  slide  rock,  snow-banked, 
swept  down  at  a  steep  declivity,  and  the  trail  led 
around  a  corner,  with  but  a  narrow  foothold  for 
man  or  beast.  Big  John  flattened  himself  against 
the  rocks. 

"  Grab  aholt  tight,  hyar,  Sid,"  he  warned.  "  A 
man  once  starts  down  thet  slope,  and  he  won't  stop 

162 


MOVING  IN  PURSUIT 

this  side  of  kingdom  come  —  Ukout!"  he  yelled 
suddenly,  jumping  back,  his  rifle  springing  instantly 
to  shoulder.  A  ferocious  snarl  resounded  from  the 
canyon,  just  around  the  turn,  and  then  there  was 
the  thud  of  swift  footfalls  in  the  snow. 

"  Scairt !  —  He's  gittin'  away!"  barked  Big 
John,  dashing  around  the  corner  followed  by  Sid. 
They  found  themselves  in  a  rocky  pocket,  with  high, 
bare  walls  of  rock,  scarce  sixty  feet  across.  The 
cat  was  half  way  up  the  cliff  as  they  entered,  but 
he  turned,  snarled  hideously,  spitting  defiance  at 
them,  and  then  sprang  down  the  cliff  and  made  for 
the  opening.  It  could  hardly  be  called  a  charge, 
rather  a  wild  dash  for  escape,  but  those  glaring, 
menacing,  green  eyes,  the  diabolical  wrinkles  of 
his  face,  and  the  yawning  red  mouth,  armed  with 
glistening  white  fangs,  completely  unnerved  Sid. 
The  suddenness  of  the  attack  upset  him,  and,  with 
a  wild  impulse,  he  turned  to  flee.  Big  John  fired, 
and  then  ducked,  as  the  panther  launched  himself  in 
a  long  spring.  Sid  turned  at  the  report,  to  see,  ap- 
parently high  over  him,  a  gray  shape  shooting  with 
incredible  swiftness  at  him.  He  got  a  glimpse  of 
sharp,  outspread,  sickle  claws,  sweeping  through  the 
air, —  turned,  and  sprawled  headlong  in  the  snow! 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

THAT  fall  probably  saved  his  life,  for  Sid 
rolled  over,  to  see  Big  John  standing  over 
him  and  shooting  downhill  as  fast  as  he 
could  pump  the  lever.  Sid  jumped  to  his  feet,  curs- 
ing wrath  fully,  but  it  was  too  late  to  put  in  a  shot, 
for  the  cougar  was  kicking  out  his  last  flurries  on 
the  snow  as  Big  John  fired  a  final  time  and  the  crea- 
ture flinched  convulsively  and  lay  still. 

"What's  the  matteer  with  you, —  old-timer ?" 
roared  out  Big  John,  grinning  at  Sid  whimsically. 
"  Thet  ain't  no  way  to  go  cat  shootin' !  " 

"I  —  fell,"  said  Sid,  succinctly,  and  that  was 
about  all  he  cared  to  say  about  his  part  in  it,  but 
Big  John  horsed  him  unmercifully. 

"Why,  I  jes'  peeled  him  over  my  shoulder-like 
to  you,"  chortled  Big  John.  "  Ye'd  oughtter  at 
least  ha*  gin  him  a  good  kick  as  he  went  by ! " 

But  Sid  was  already  down  the  slope  and  had  his 
hunting  knife  ready  to  begin  skinning  out.  It  upset 
him  to  learn  that  he,  too,  could  have  a  fit  of  buck 

164 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

fever  or  whatever  panic  it  was  that  came  with  the 
sudden  charge  of  a  wild  animal.  He  had  counted 
on  standing  like  a  rock  at  close  quarters,  but  now  — 

"  Waal,  it's  nawthin'  when  ye  git  used  to  it," 
called  Big  John,  banteringly,  easing  himself  down 
the  slope.  He  seemed  to  have  guessed  Sid's  un- 
spoken thoughts. 

"  You  sure  did  plug  him ! "  exclaimed  the  boy, 
counting  the  holes  as  they  began  stripping  off  the 
warm  pelt. 

"  Shore !  I  was  plumb  mad  at  him,  for  a  leetle," 
laughed  Big  John,  "  but,  animals  is  animals.  This 
bird  was  more  scairt  than  anythin'  else.  They  ain't 
none  of  'em,  except  Old  Eph,  who  really  means  busi- 
ness." 

They  soon  finished  the  skin  and  then  toted  it  down 
to  timber  and  cached  it  up  a  tree.  "  We's  startin' 
a  reg'lar  wwseum  hereabouts,"  quoth  Big  John, 
whimsically.  "  Now  f er  Scotty  —  we'd  better  climb 
up  high  somewhar  an'  look  for  a  smoke.  Scotty '11 
start  one  sure,  fust  thing  he  turns  out  this  mornin'." 

They  picked  out  a  high  peak  and  swarmed  up  it. 
Sid  still  felt  rather  shaky,  but  he  managed  to  get 
courageously  over  the  steep,  dangerous  buttes,  claw- 
ing fiercely  at  the  treacherous  shale  for  it  was 

165 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

mountain  work,  that  tried  the  soul;  and  so  up  onto 
the  bare  rock,  where  he  joined  Big  John  on  the 
lookout. 

"  Thar  he  is, —  now !  "  exclaimed  Big  John,  as 
his  eyes  swept  the  endless  sierras  of  peaks  curiously. 
"  Over  in  thet  valley,  to  the  west  of  us  1 " 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Sid  devoutly.  "It 
must  be  Scotty,  for  there  are  three  smokes,  and  the 
elk-tooth  men  would  have  had  but  a  single  fire." 

They  planned  a  route  through  the  mountains  and 
set  out.  An  hour  later  their  Whoopee!  from  the 
peaks  was  answered  by  a  hail  from  below,  and 
iScotty's  tiny,  dark  figure  ran  out  through  the  tim- 
ber, waving  his  rifle  and  yelling  joyously. 

"  Waal,  old-timer,  you  shore  hev  had  a  gosh-all 
fine  party ! "  shouted  Big  John  as  they  came  down 
to  meet  Scotty,  who  was  climbing  up  with  might  and 
main.  It  was  the  first  time  Big  John  had  ever 
called  Scotty  "old-timer,"  and  both  boys  thrilled 
at  the  title  to  forest  knighthood  that  it  implied.  No 
one  was  ever  called  "  old-timer  "  by  the  mountain 
men,  until  he  had  proved  himself  a  man.  Sid  won- 
dered, secretly,  whether  he  himself  had  not  lost  it 
by  the  episode  with  the  catamount. 

"  Well,  show  me  that  Ring-Necked  Grizzly  and  I'll 
166 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

win  it  back  again, —  to  my  own  satisfaction, —  any- 
way !  "  the  boy  muttered  under  his  breath. 

Scotty  told  them  his  story  in  detail,  but  when  he 
got  to  describing  the  great  grizzly  with  the  white 
collar  on  his  throat,  both  the  others  started. 

"  What  —  the  Old  Boy  himself !  Well,  I  want  to 
know !  "  cried  Big  John,  excitedly.  "  An*  only  day 
before  yestiday!  Say,  boys,  we'll  go  right  back 
there !  This  blizzard's  wiped  out  all  the  tracks,  an* 
thet  old  b'ar'll  be  back  a-chawin'  them  elk.  Le's 
go  git  him !  " 

Both  boys  were  game,  so,  after  Big  John  studied 
out  the  surrounding  peaks  until  he  was  satisfied  as  to 
his  location  and  had  a  map  of  their  route  in  his  mind, 
he  led  the  way  up  out  of  the  basin  to  the  west,  and 
then  it  was  Sid's  turn  to  tell  Scotty  a  few  things 
about  their  friend?,  the  elk-tooth  men,  as  they 
tramped  along. 

After  they  scaled  to  the  top  of  the  "Garden 
Wall,"  the  lay  of  the  land  became  familiar  to  the 
boys.  There  lay  their  own  range,  far  across  to  the 
.  west,  while  below  was  spread  out  all  the  lesser, 
spruce-clad  hills,  that  would  be  called  high  moun- 
tains in  the  East.  Down  below  them,  some  four 
miles  off,  they  could  trace  the  young  Allegheny  be- 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

hind  which  Scotty  went  on  his  first  trail ;  beyond  it 
the  deep  cut  of  the  ravine  showed  through  the  table 
land;  and  a  ring  of  snowy  peaks  to  the  north  of  them 
marked  the  site  of  the  elk  park.  Beyond  these  was 
undoubtedly  the  site  of  the  avalanche  basin,  where 
Sid  had  his  wild  ride. 

Between  them  and  those  distant  peaks  came  the 
rocky  ridges  over  which  both  Scotty,  and  Big  John 
with  Sid,  had  ranged.  They  picked  out  a  new  route 
that  would  keep  to  higher  ground,  and,  after  a  few 
hours  of  plodding,  dipped  down  to  the  boulders  and 
ravines  of  the  elk  park.  From  up  here  its  amphi- 
theater spread  out  like  a  pit.  There  was  Scotty's 
tree,  and,  over  near  the  cliffs,  the  still  form  of  the 
dead  seven-pointer. 

They  watched  the  scene  from  the  crags  above  for 
some  time.  "  No  b'ar  has  came  —  but  thar's  lots 
of  fresh  elk  tracks  down  yander,"  declared  Big  John, 
after  a  long  look-see.  "  It's  my  idee  that  we  set  up 
the  pup  tent  somewhere,  jest  out  o'  sight  o'  this  basin, 
an*  then  watch  thet  elk  carkiss  a  piece.  We'll  go 
down  an'  skin  him  out,  now." 

The  park  was  empty,  as  they  descended,  and, 
after  a  hard  afternoon's  work  they  got  off  the  head 
and  skin  and  cut  up  a  large  quantity  of  the  meat  for 

168 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

jerking.  The  tent  was  established  in  a  cleft  in  the 
crags,  admirably  adapted  for  purposes  of  defense, 
for  Big  John  was  not  at  all  convinced  that  the  elk- 
tooth  men  had  left  the  country  for  good. 

"  It  ain't  reasonable,  boys,"  he  argued.  "  Thar's 
not  many  elk  over  the  Divide,  an'  they  ain't  going 
back  down  into  the  valley  and  git  tracked  by  Jim 
Hoge.  My  idee  is  thet  they'll  lay  low,  somewhar 
over  beyond  them  buttes,  an'  then  come  back  here  for 
more  elk  in  a  day  or  so.  An'  old  Ring-Neck'll  be 
back, —  shore, —  when  this  carciss  gets  to  risin'. 
This  is  his  stamping  ground,  I  take  it." 

After  the  outlying  camp  was  well  established,  Big 
John  left  the  boys,  to  hike  down  the  mountains  to 
see  after  their  horses  and  the  main  camp.  "  Won't 
be  back  to-night,  fellers,"  he  grunted.  "  I'm  goin' 
to  git  some  real  sleep  in  the  rag  house,  and  fetch  ye 
back  yore  fur  bags  and  cookin'  things  to-morrer. 
Mebbe  I'll  see  Jim  Hoge  in  the  mornin',  too. 
S'long!" 

"  Over  the  river! "  called  Sid  cheerily  after  him. 
"  Well,  Scotty,  old  squid, —  it's  up  to  us,  now !  " 

"  I  move  we  establish  a  sentinel  post  somewhere 
in  the  rocks  near  the  basin,  where  we  can  watch  the 
carcass,"  said  Scotty.  "  Old  Ring-Neck  may  come 

169 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

round  about  twilight  this  very  evening,  who 
knows!" 

"  Fat  chance !  "  laughed  Sid.  "  I'm  out  o'  luck  in 
this  big  game  thing,  Scotty, —  there's  a  hoodoo  in  it 
somewhere;  one  ram  and  one  spike-horn,  so  far." 

"Why,  your  ram's  the  king  trophy  of  all!"  re- 
torted Scotty,  " — and  no  one's  got  the  Old  Boy 
yet,  either.  I've  a  couple  of  bullets  in  him,  but  it 
looks  to  me  as  if  he  was  one  of  those  original  old- 
timers  who  don't  know  much  about  rifles,  and  fear 
man  no  more  than  so  much  cattle." 

"  Looks  that  way !  "  agreed  Sid.  "  The  way  he 
came  for  you  was  a  pretty  fair  sample  of  the  old- 
time  grizzly  that  father  used  to  go  up  against,  with 
the  old  .45-90  black  powder  rifle.  No  wonder  Old 
Eph  killed  so  many  hunters." 

They  had  been  prospecting  for  a  good  outpost 
site  as  they  talked,  and  now  decided  on  one,  about 
fifty  yards  from  the  carcass,  and  maybe  eighty  yards 
back  to  the  tent  in  the  cleft.  An  almost  concealed 
route  through  the  boulders  led  the  whole  distance  be- 
tween the  tent  and  the  outpost. 

"We  ought  to  camouflage  this  post,  somehow," 
observed  Sid.  "  No  use  exposing  one's  head  to 
view,  while  we  have  time  to  cut  a  few  green  young 

170 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

balsams  and  stick  them  in  the  crevices  up  over  the 
rocks!" 

This  job  was  done  to  their  satisfaction,  and  then 
the  evening  meal  cooked  and  eaten,  before  the  blue 
shadows  of  approaching  twilight  came  creeping  out 
from  the  cliffs,  announcing  that  it  was  time  to  be  on 
watch.  The  two  boys  repaired  to  the  outpost  and 
waited,  concealed  behind  their  rock,  while  the  high 
clouds  gradually  lost  their  roseate  hues  and  the 
deep  gloom  of  dusk  fell  over  the  valley.  The  wind 
whistled  down  the  crags  and  swept  into  the  basin, 
but  not  a  creature  moved  in  all  its  lonely  expanse. 

It  got  dark,  and  the  carcass  of  the  elk  was  barely 
distinguishable,  when  Scotty  suddenly  grasped  Sid's 
arm,  "  Hist !  "  he  whispered.  "  What's  that  over 
there?" 

"  Cracky !  —  It's  a  bear,"  gasped  Sid,  excitedly. 
"A  small  one,"  he  added,  disappointedly,  "just  a 
little  black  bear,  no  bigger'n  a  shote." 

They  watched  his  blurred  form  ambling  along 
over  the  boulders,  with  that  odd,  clumsy  gallop  of 
the  hind  legs,  like  a  man  on  all  fours.  Then  the 
little  fellow  suddenly  sat  up  and  sniffed,  and,  with 
a  grunt  of  terror,  turned  and  bolted  incontinently 
out  of  the  park ! 

171 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

The  boys  laughed  uproariously  to  see  him. 

"  Gee !  —  it's  not  so  funny,  either !  "  said  Sid, 
stopping  suddenly  and  facing  Scotty,  ruefully. 
"  It's  we  who  are  the  fools !  We  never  thought  of 
the  wind,  in  choosing  this  outpost !  It's  no  good  at 
all,  with  the  wind  at  our  backs  and  blowing  out  into 
the  park.  See  what  that  bear  did?  He  got  our 
scent,  and  he  couldn't  get  away  fast  enough !  " 

"  Same  thing  with  the  first  elk  that  comes  in 
here !  "  agreed  Scotty,  crestfallen.  "  Say  —  without 
Big  John,  we  are  a  pair  of  babies." 

"  Well,  let's  pray  for  a  calm  to-morrow  —  it's 
too  late  to  change  to-night,"  concluded  Sid,  as  they 
turned  back  to  camp. 

Early  before  dawn  next  morning  the  boys  were 
stirring.  A  pot  of  coffee  and  some  cold  corn  pone 
served  for  breakfast,  and,  bundled  up  in  the  fleece 
coats,  they  were  soon  at  their  post  in  the  rocks. 
The  carcass  lay,  almost  indistinguishable  in  the 
gloom,  and  the  air  was  still  and  nipping  with  frost. 
The  silent  vigil  went  on  uninterrupted,  as  the  gray 
light  in  the  east  gradually  became  noticeable  on  the 
mountain  tops. 

Suddenly—  "Mark,  south!"  hissed  Scotty. 
"Thunder!  look  at  that  band  of  elk! " 

172 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

In  they  came,  a  regular  parade,  in  single  file !  An 
old  cow  and  a  young  one  led.  They  were  followed 
by  a  young  three-pointer  and  a  spike-horn,  and  the 
rear  was  brought  up  by  a  grand  six-pointer,  the  mas- 
ter of  the  herd.  Stretched  out  in  a  long  line,  the 
magnificent  animals  bobbed  slowly  through  the  boul- 
ders, tossing  their  antlers,  the  snow  hanging  in  icicles 
from  their  dark  brown  manes,  the  lighter  brown  of 
their  graceful  bodies  and  still  lighter  rump  patches  a 
fine  example  of  nature's  disruptive  coloration.  The 
boys  thrilled  at  the  sight. 

"  I  musi  have  that  six-pointer !  "  whispered  Sid, 
excitedly,  shoving  his  rifle  carefully  out  under  the 
camouflage.  "  He's  not  as  big  as  yours,  but  he'll 
do  for  me !  " 

Scotty  watched,  awaiting  expectantly  the  crash  of 
the  rifle,  when,  without  an  instant's  warning,  a  per- 
fect volley  of  shots  rang  out  from  up  in  the  crags 
opposite!  The  basin  resounded  with  the  spang  of 
high-powered  rifles,  and,  in  a  second  the  six-pointer 
and  the  small  three-pointer  were  wallowing  and 
plunging  in  the  snow,  while  the  cows  and  the  spike- 
horn  galloped  madly  down-hill  out  of  the  park. 

The  boys  were  too  astonished  to  speak.  Sid 
lowered  his  rifle  and  looked  at  Scotty.  "  Now,  who 

173 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

in  forty  devils  can  that  be !  —  Wait !  "  he  whispered, 
tensely.  "  We'll  have  to  watch  this !  It  may  be  Big 
John  and  the  ranger,  but  it's  more  likely, —  our  elk- 
tooth  friends  — " 

"  The  elk-tooth  men! "  exclaimed  Scotty,  peering 
out  from  under  the  balsam  screen.  "  It  sure  is ! 

—  Here  come's  one  of  them,  now !     He's  the  tall  one 

—  the  one  who  kept  the  Indian  from  killing  me." 
They  watched  him  climbing  down  through  the 

boulders,  his  rifle  swinging  carelessly  in  one  hand. 

"Yes,  I  know  him!  —  But  where  is  the  In- 
dian ?  "  queried  Sid.  "  I've  a  score  to  settle  with 
him !  "  he  muttered,  grimly. 

"  He's  lying  back  up  there  in  ambush,  I  take  it," 
said  Scotty,  shivering.  "  We  got  to  watch  our- 
selves. What'll  we  do !  " 

"  I  don't  know!  "  whispered  back  Sid.  "  Watch 
and  wait  —  something  will  develop,  soon." 

Warily  the  tall  outlaw  advanced,  his  rifle  now  at 
ready  below  shoulder,  his  eyes  searching  every  foot 
of  the  basin,  suspiciously,  as  he  crept  from  one 
boulder  to  the  next.  At  length  he  stopped  over 
the  six-pointer  and  his  hand  went  back  to  his  hunt- 
ing knife. 

Sid  watched  him  with  a  smoldering  fire  of  anger 
174 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

growing  in  his  eyes.  The  outlaw  pulled  open  the 
bull  elk's  mouth,  and  worked  at  the  teeth  for  some 
time  with  his  knife.  Then  he  wiped  off  two  small 
bloody  objects  in  the  snow,  and  put  them  carefully 
in  a  little  leather  wallet  which  he  pulled  up  out  of 
his  shirt  bosom. 

"  Here !  "  rasped  Sid,  decisively.  "  I'm  going  to 
hold  up  this  fellow,  red-handed!  You  watch  the 
cliffs,  narrowly,  now,  Scotty ! " 

"  Halt!!  You  —  there !  "  he  called  out  suddenly, 
covering  the  man  with  the  .35.  With  sudden,  scorn- 
ful curse,  the  outlaw  dropped  down  behind  the  car- 
cass, as  Sid  hesitated  a  second  and  then  fired.  He 
had  still  felt  reluctant  about  taking  a  human  life,  for 
no  matter  what  cause.  And,  at  the  same  instant, 
a  rifle  shot  bellowed  out  from  up  in  the  cliffs,  and 
Scotty  fell  gurgling  and  coughing  in  the  snow.  Sid 
swung  up  his  rifle  and  fired  back,  blindly,  for  not 
even  a  haze  of  smoke  told  where  the  shot  came  from. 
An  utter  silence  reigned,  as  he  turned  fearfully  to 
look  at  Scotty.  A  red  pool  was  staining  the  snow 
from  his  left  shoulder,  and  the  boy  doubled  up  and 
whimpered. 

"Oh!  — Oh,  Sid!  — It  hurts  so!"  he  groaned, 
writhing  on  the  snow.  Then  he  rolled  over  and  lay 

175 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

still,  while   Sid  looked  down  at  him,   wild-eyed. 

"  Scotty !  Scotty !  Speak  to  me !  —  Speak  to 
me ! "  Sid  whispered,  the  tears  coming  to  his  eyes. 

Scotty !  —  Gone !  —  dead !  —  really  and  actually 
dead!  It  seemed  too  cruel  to  believe;  the  boy's 
youthful  nature  rejected  the  idea  rebelliously.  He 
stooped  and  hastily  unbuttoned  Scotty 's  coat  and 
ripped  open  his  shirt.  The  heart  beat  still,  but  fee- 
bly, and,  terror  stricken,  Sid  uncovered  the  wound. 
The  bullet  had  crashed  through  the  collar  bone, 
splitting  it,  and  blood  was  flowing  freely.  Sid 
staunched  it  with  a  handful  of  snow  and  tore  off  his 
bandanna.  Slipping  it  under  Scotty's  arm  pit,  he 
bound  on  his  own  handkerchief  in  a  compress,  and 
then,  pulling  a  stick  up  out  of  the  snow,  he  made 
a  tourniquet  and  twisted  it  tight.  Then  he  rose  and 
peered  out  through  the  balsam.  A  rifle  muzzle  was 
staring  at  him  through  the  long  hair  on  the  bull  elk's 
neck!  With  a  sob  of  rage,  Sid  drew  a  careful  bead 
and  fired.  The  rifle  spat  back,  and  a  bullet  thumped 
through  the  balsam  overhead.  Sid  pumped  the  lever 
as  fast  as  he  could. 

"  Might  as  well  make  it  our  signal,  too !  "  he 
thought  to  himself  as  he  drove  home  the  heavy  bul- 
lets through  the  elk's  neck.  Bang  —  Bang  —  Bang! 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

—  Bang!  whipped  the  sharp,  tearing  reports,  as  fur 
flew  out  of  the  dark  mane. 

Absolute  stillness  reigned,  as  he  hastily  slipped  in 
a  fresh  clip.  No  answering  fire  came  from  the  car- 
cass, nor  any  from  the  Indian  in  ambush  up  in  the 
cliffs.  Sid  waited  a  while,  and  then  turned  to 
Scotty  again.  The  boy  had  not  moved,  and  his 
eyes  were  still  closed,  while  a  deadly  pallor  had 
spread  over  his  face.  Sid  shook  him,  anxiously, 
tears  raining  down  his  cheeks,  and  chafed  his  cold 
hands,  calling  to  him  softly,  but  his  chum  remained 
still  limp  and  lifeless. 

Unnerved,  he  again  got  up  and  watched  through 
the  screen,  but  nothing  stirred  in  the  park.  It  wor* 
ried  him  worse  than  any  amount  of  firing  would 
have  done.  This  absolute,  deadly  silence  seemed 
too  sinister.  What  could  the  Indian  be  up  to? 
Again  and  again  he  searched  the  rocks  and  cliffs  be- 
hind him,  for  he  felt  sure  that  the  redskin  would  be 
circling,  concealed  like  a  snake,  to  get  to  some  van- 
tage point  where  he  could  pour  in  a  deadly,  plung- 
ing fire. 

And  still  the  minutes  lengthened  out,  and  silence 
hung  like  a  pall  over  the  park,  while  all  his  anxious 
ministerings  to  Scotty  produced  not  a  move  nor 

177 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

a  flicker  of  an  eye.  The  suspense  grew  terrible. 
The  boy  had  almost  got  to  a  point  where  he  wanted 
to  stand  forth  and  give  himself  up,  to  get  a  little 
freedom  to  attend  to  Scotty,  but  he  reflected  that  to 
do  so  would  be  to  be  shot  down  without  mercy 
if  the  Indian  got  a  chance. 

Then, —  into  this  valley  of  silence, —  of  two  hos- 
tile parties  facing  each s  other  with  muted  rifles, 
walked  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly! 

He  came  lumbering  slowly  into  the  park,  un- 
ruffled, indifferent,  purposeful;  caring  not  a  whit 
for  man  or  beast  —  a  last  survivor  of  that  old  clan 
of  ferocious  bears  who  once  ruled  these  mountains 
and  killed  where  they  wanted,  afraid  of  nothing 
that  lived. 

Sid  watched  him  with  bated  breath.  Twice  the 
bear  rose  on  his  haunches  and  sniffed  the  air,  growl- 
ing angrily  as  the  human  taint  came  to  his  nostrils, 
the  broad  white  collar  under  his  throat  a  staring 
mark.  The  wind  was  now  astir,  and  Sid  wondered 
what  he  would  do  when  the  scent  from  their  own 
position  struck  him.  On  came  old  Ring-Neck, 
peevishly,  now  and  then  lifting  a  huge  iboulder  up 
with  one  paw  as  if  it  had  been  a  mere  pebble,  and 
snatching  at  any  small  gophers  that  might  have  taken 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  ELK  PARK 

refuge  under  them.  Then  he  spied  the  two  dead 
elk,  and,  with  grunts  of  satisfaction,  he  loped  swiftly 
along  on  all  fours,  towards  them,  while  still  neither 
party  of  humans  dared  fire  a  shot  at  him!  Then 
he  ran  into  the  human  scent,  streaming  downward 
from  Sid's  outpost,  and  he  stopped,  rose  to  his 
haunches  and  sniffed,  fiercely,  a  savage  rumble  ris- 
ing in  his  throat,  which  grew  to  a  hoarse  roar  of 
defiance. 

Then  a  shot  rang  out  from  the  cliffs,  well  behind 
Sid's  position.  It  was  well  aimed,  to  enrage  the 
bear,  for  it  struck  him  in  the  fore  paw.  He 
jumped,  bit  at  the  paw,  and  then,  with  a  bellow 
of  rage  charged  straight  upwind,  right  at  Sid! 

The  boy  stood  over  Scotty  and  faced  him.  A 
glance  backward  showed  nothing  but  a  faint  whisp 
of  smoke  among  the  rocks,  and  he  did  not  know  how 
much  he  dared  expose  himself,  but,  it  was  certain 
that,  to  defend  himself  against  the  bear,  he  would 
have  to  come  under  the  Indian's  fire!  It  was  a 
diabolical,  deadly  situation,  that  the  red  man  had 
been  quick  to  make  use  of !  Sid  knelt  close  beside 
the  boulder,  and  drew  a  careful  bead  on  the  white 
collar  of  the  bear  as  he  came  galloping  swiftly  to- 
ward him,  roaring  thunderously  as  he  charged.  He 

179 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

fired,  and  the  heavy  .35  bellowed  out,  but  old  Ring- 
Neck  only  flinched  and  came  on  faster  and  more  sav- 
agely purposeful  than  ever.  Sid  could  see  his  red, 
glaring  eyes  plainly,  now,  as  he  fired  a  second  time, 
full  into  the  grizzly's  chest. 

Then  Scotty  groaned  and  half  sat  up  under  him. 
His  eyes  were  open,  and  he  was  looking  with  a  kind 
of  horror  in  them  —  at  something  behind  Sid! 

"Look!"  he  gasped,  and  fell  back. 

Sid  glanced  quickly  over  his  shoulder,  and  there, 
not  fifty  yards  away,  around  a  boulder,  he  glimpsed 
an  arm,  lying  flat  along  the  rock,  and  over  it  glared 
a  dark,  savage  face,  with  squinting  black  eyes, — 
and  he  found  himself  looking  into  the  threatening 
ring  of  the  muzzle  of  the  Indian's  rifle. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

SID  dropped  with  a  spasm  of  terror  as  the  In- 
dian's gun  barked  behind  him,  and  the  snow 
flew  in  spurts  along  the  track  of  the  rifle  bul- 
let. 

"Lie  still ! — "  he  whispered  to  Scotty,  as  he 
floundered  down  in  the  snow  beside  him,  sinking 
deep  in  it  while  he  hastily  trained  his  sights  on  the 
grizzly.  Old  Ring-Neck  appeared  high  above  him 
now,  as  he  rose  up  over  a  boulder,  not  fifteen  yards 
off.  His  immense  head  was  wrinkled  into  one 
malignant  snarl,  and  the  big  body  seemed  packed 
away  behind  the  head,  with  the  great  forepaws 
reaching  out,  moving  like  rapid  piston  rods.  Sid 
raised  his  sights  until  they  poised  between  the  two 
fiery,  venomous  little  eyes,  and  then  pulled  the  trig- 
ger, viciously.  The  kick  of  the  rifle  nearly  dis- 
located his  shoulder,  but  the  heavy  bullet  smashed 
in  the  frontal  bone  and  doubled  up  the  grizzly,  who 
staggered  about  blindly,  pawing  at  his  face  with 
his  long  claws  and  bawling  like  a  shot  pig.  Then 

181 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

he  wabbled  and  fell  over  in  a  confused  heap,  thrash- 
ing about  with  his  huge  hairy  paws.  Sid  grabbed 
Scotty  and  rolled  over  with  him  to  safety  behind  a 
nest  of  small  rocks,  for  he  expected  the  Indian  to 
fire  again  every  instant. 

Beyond  them  he  could  hear  the  mighty  death 
throes  of  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly,  as  logs,  rocks  and 
snow  flew  under  his  convulsive  blows.  Sid  peered 
back  to  where  he  had  last  seen  the  Indian.  His 
heart  was  pounding  with  excitement,  but  a  wild, 
exulting  joy  rose  within  him.  He  had  killed  the 
Ring-Necked  Grizzly!  —  He  had  not  flinched  at  the 
charge,  nor  lost  his  wits  in  that  grim  encounter !  It 
wiped  out  the  disgrace  of  that  panic  with  the  pan- 
ther of  the  day  before,  and  it  gave  him  immense  con- 
fidence in  himself.  Warily  watching  over  a  notch 
in  the  boulders,  he  turned  to  Scotty.  The  lad's 
eyes  were  open  again,  and  he  was  breathing  quietly. 

"  Where  am  I ?  —  What's  happening?  "  he  asked, 
in  a  weak  voice. 

"  Thunder!  It's  good  to  hear  your  voice  again, 
Les !  "  exclaimed  Sid,  overjoyed.  "  You  got  hit  by 
the  Indian's  bullet,  (first  off.  Your  collar  bone's 
smashed,  and  you  fainted  with  the  shock.  The  bul- 
let hasn't  touched  anything  vital  that  I  can  discover. 

182 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

You  lie  quiet,  and  it'll  all  come  out  im  the  wash,"  he 
grinned  cheerfully  at  Scotty. 

"Where  is  the  Indian, —  now?"  asked  Scotty. 
" Water! —  I'd  give  my  shoes  for  a  drink  of 
water!" 

"Ssh!  Don't  holler  like  that!  He's  around 
near  here, —  now!  —  took  a  pot  shot  at  me  not 
fifty  yards  off,  a  minute  ago.  We'll  have  to  watch 
out ; —  try  some  snow." 

He  put  a  handful  of  it  into  Scotty 's  mouth,  and 
scouted  cautiously  over  the  rim  of  the  rocks  for 
signs  of  the  Indian.  Nothing  moved,  however,  and 
a  silence  as  appalling  as  before  the  charge  of  the 
grizzly  reigned. 

"  The  other  outlaw's  done  for,"  muttered  the  boy 
to  himself,  "  but  where  in  the  nation  the  Indian  will 
turn  up  next,  gets  me !  "  He  decided  that  two  could 
play  at  that  stalking  game,  however,  and,  after  mak- 
ing Scotty  as  comfortable  as  possible,  he  concealed 
his  lair  with  a  screen  of  drift  underbrush,  and  was 
ready  to  venture  forth  on  a  man  hunt  in  the  boulders. 

"  White  clothing's  the  game  that  will  fool  him !  " 
exclaimed  Sid  to  himself  after  some  cogitating  on 
what  to  do.  "  What  have  I  got  on  that  is  white  ?  — 
The  very  thing ! "  he  cried,  whipping  off  his  coat  and 

183 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

turning  it  inside  out,  with  the  white  fleece  wool 
showing.  He  rolled  it  in  snow  and  had  just  made 
a  white  head-covering  out  of  his  handkerchief,  when 
a  distant  Whoopee!  !  I  came  floating  up  from  down 
the  valley.  It  was  Big  John,  he  realized,  and  with 
him,  possibly,  the  ranger.  They  must  be  warned 
at  any  hazard ! 

He  wormed  off  through  the  boulders,  and  when 
well  sunk  in  behind  them,  and  some  distance  from 
Scotty,  he  answered  the  call.  Big  John  was  roar- 
ing, constantly,  now,  his  mighty  horn  of  a  voice 
coming  nearer  all  the  time.  Sid  raised  his  voice 
and  yelled. 

"  Look  —  out  —  John  — r  Elk  —  men  —  here !  " 
he  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  The  echoes  car- 
ried it  around  the  cliffs,  and  it  reverberated  down 
into  the  timber.  There  was  a  silence,  and  then  came 
Big  John's  voice,  "  All  right, —  we'll  git  'em! "  came 
back  the  distant,  cheery  answer.  With  two  of  the 
best  rifles  in  the  mountains  back  of  him,  Sid  felt  that 
the  game  was  turning  their  way  at  last.  The  Indian 
was  somewhere  out  in  the  rocks,  and  Sid  circled  back 
again  behind  Scotty,  for  he  did  not  dare  leave  him 
long.  He  ripped  off  some  dark  green  spruce  sprays 
and  put  them  over  Scotty's  hiding  place,  and  then 

184 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

set  out  toward  their  camp,  in  the  direction  where  he 
had  last  seen  the  Indian,  aiming  at  him. 

Still  the  deadly  silence !  Not  a  shot  had  been  fired 
on  either  side.  This  was  the  real  thing,  unlike  any 
mountain  or  cowmen  battles  that  he  had  ever  read 
about.  This  appalling,  nervous  stillness,  with  Death 
creeping  about  among  the  boulders ;  silent,  watchful 
foemen,  armed  with  high-power  rifles  that  would 
spit  death  at  the  least  incautious  exposure!  Some- 
where, his  friends  were  working  cautiously  into  the 
basin ;  somewhere  over  behind  the  elk,  probably,  lay 
one  of  the  outlaws,  dead;  somewhere,  the  other,  and 
by  far  the  most  dangerous,  was  at  large,  like  a  rat- 
tlesnake concealed  in  the  rocks — -he  might  come 
upon  him  anywhere! 

Sid  lifted  his  head  cautiously  under  the  branches 
of  a  small  bushy  spruce  that  grew  out  of  a  crevice 
in  a  boulder.  Instantly  a  rifle  shot  rang  out,  and 
blinding,  stinging  spats  of  snow  filled  his  eyes. 
From  up  in  the  rocks  in  both  sides  of  the  basin,  came 
a  sudden  explosion  of  answering  shots,  amd  the  snow 
flew  from  the  Indian's  rocky  nest,  high  in  the  boul- 
ders, while  a  bullet,  ricochetting  from  a  granite  sur- 
face, spun  howling  off  into  space. 

"  Gawp !  "  rasped  Sid  at  himself,  contemptuously, 

185 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"  I  forgot  to  take  off  my  white  handkerchief !  '  I 
forgot '  will  be  the  death  of  me  yet !  Must  have 
stuck  up  like  an  ostrich  egg!  I  certainly  touched 
the  buzzer  that  time!  Well,  Big  John  and  the 
ranger  are  on  the  job,  anyway !  " 

"  Keep  yore  head  down,  son  I "  came  Big  John's 
voice,  ringing  like  iron  across  the  basin.  "  We're 
out  to  get  this  bird  1  You  lay  low !  " 

Sid  crouched,  waiting  further  developments. 
Then  a  new  idea  began  to  worry  him;  the  Indian 
had  shot,  last,  from  much  further  up  in  the  rocks 
than  before, —  suppose  he  was  trying  to  escape? 
The  game  had  gone  too  much  against  him.  It  would 
be  just  like  him,  the  boy  reasoned,  to  sneak  away, 
and  then  try  a  pot  shot  at  them  on  the  dark,  say, 
when  they  were  all  asleep  in  camp.  They  just  had 
to  catch  him,  at  any  cost! 

He  scanned  the  rim  wall  of  rock,  carefully.  Most 
of  it  rose  to  snowy  eminences  rising  high  into  the 
blue  sky,  for  the  peaks  formed  part  of  the  Main 
Chain  of  the  Divide  and  were  almost  impassable. 
There  was,  however,  a  rock  coulee  or  chimney  which 
led  to  a  sort  of  cleft  or  gap  in  the  wall.  It  was 
dangerous  climbing  there,  but  once  a  man  reached  it, 
it  would  be  hard  to  burn  him  out,  and  he  might 

186 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

make  good  his  escape  somewhere  across  the  Divide. 
Neither  Big  John  nor  the  ranger  could  reach  it  with- 
out first  coming  down  into  the  valley,  where  the 
Indian  would  have  them  subject  to  a  plunging  fire. 
In  fact,  the  boy  realized  with  a  sudden  thrill,  he 
would  have  them  all  at  his  mercy,  once  he  reached 
that  high  chimney,  for  the  boulders  would  afford 
them  but  little  concealment  from  a  rifleman  up 
there ! 

Sid  mapped  out  a  way  to  reach  the  spot,  and  set 
out  immediately,  for  it  was  essential  to  get  there 
ahea&of  the  Indian.  Worming  through  the  snow, 
he  dove  into  a  deep  ravine,  and  crept  quickly  up  it, 
watching  at  every  move  for  a  hostile  rifle  peering 
at  him  from  around  a  boulder.  The  ravine  led  up 
the  mountain  flank,  until  it  ended  at  a  high  ledge 
under  the  cliffs.  Here  the  boy  could  look  down 
on  the  whole  basin  below.  Nothing  moved  over  the 
tumbled  white  expanse,  but  a  man  up  here  could 
certainly  command  their  whole  battlefield  below! 
Even  Scotty's  lair  showed  plainly,  a  low  heap  of 
limbs  and  spruce  boughs,  which  the  Indian  might 
take  a  shot  at  himself,  on  a  chance,  were  it  not  to 
expose  his  own  whereabouts. 

Big  John  and  the  ranger  were  somewhere  up  on 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

his  own  level,  but  their  ambushes  were  carefully  con- 
cealed, for  Sid  could  make  out  nothing  that  in  the 
least  gave  any  clew  to  them.  Over  to  the  left  of 
Sid  lay  the  beginnings  of  the  coulee,  with  two  tall 
rock  buttes  towering  to  right  and  left.  To  reach 
it,  unobserved,  Sid  had  to  crawl  across  the  ledge 
of  snow,  and  now  he  thanked  his  stars  for  the 
white  jacket  and  head-gear,  for,  matted  with  Snow 
as  they  were,  they  gave  at  least  a  chance.  Worm- 
ing his  way  along,  in  short,  quick  shoves,  with  long 
stops  in  between  to  watch  and  listen,  he  finally 
reached  the  chimney  and  crept  into  the  cleft.  It 
was  full  of  snow,  and  no  tracks  showed  in  it,  so 
he  was  ahead  of  the  Indian. 

Sid  crouched  behind  a  ledge,  rifle  ready,  ears 
tense,  every  sense  on  the  alert.  A  long  period  of 
silence  passed,  while  the  bright  sun  shone  down  on 
the  snow  (fields  and  the  clouds  sailed  overhead  in 
the  blue  sky.  Then  he  thought  he  heard  a  faint 
noise,  down  below!  He  half  rose,  intending  to 
spring  out ;  then  hesitated.  The  Indian  would  have 
seen  his  tracks,  and  would  be  quite  as  ready!  The 
silence  went  on,  intolerable.  Something  sudden 
was  going  to  happen,  soon,  he  knew  not  what,  but 
the  boy  regretted  bitterly  giving  the  Indian  the  first 

188 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

move  in  the  game.  He  should  have  waited,  con- 
cealed, just  below,  without  leaving  any  tracks  in  the 
chimney. 

Sid  was  considering  a  way  to  undo  this  mistake 
when,  sudden  as  a  lightning  flash,  a  figure  whirled 
out  from  the  rocks  just  above  him,  and  the  next 
instant  —  CRASH !  —  a  huge  snowball  smashed 
into  his  face.  Instinctively  his  hand  went  up  to 
•brush  the  slush  out  of  his  eyes,  and  at  the  same  in- 
stant his  rifle  muzzle  was  wrenched  aside  and  the 
piece  exploded  harmlessly  into  the  air,  as  with  a 
fierce  grunt  the  Indian  sprang  upon  him  like  a 
panther.  Sid  caught  the  flash  of  a  long  knife  above 
him,  as  they  went  down  together,  and  he  grabbed  at 
it  with  desperate  quickness,  crooked  his  leg  around 
the  Indian  and  swung  over  him  heavily.  It  was  es- 
sential to  pin  that  knife  down  in  the  snow,  for  it 
would  not  do  to  just  hold  off  the  wrist, —  and  get 
slashed  with  its  blade!  Sid's  right  forearm  bore 
heavily  on  the  Indian's  throat,  and  his  hand  gripped 
fiercely  on  his  coat  shoulder  so  as  to  get  a  better 
purchase.  His  left  hand  crept  along  the  Indian's 
bony  fingers,  while  his  thumb  dug  in,  striving  to 
force  the  knife  out  of  his  grip.  The  Indian's  free 
hand  clawed  and  tore  at  his  eyes,  but  Sid  hung  on, 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

putting  all  his  strength  into  the  combined  strangle- 
hold and  grip  on  the  knife-hand  that  was  his  ad- 
vantage. 

Choking  and  gasping,  with  a  powerful,  irresisti- 
ble heave  of  his  body,  the  Indian  rolled  them  both 
over  and  bore  down  his  weight  heavily,  his  knife- 
arm  pinned  under  Sid,  the  sole  hold  that  the  boy  had 
on  him.  Slowly  he  felt  the  Indian's  grip  on  the 
knife  giving  way  before  the  pressure  of  his  thumb. 
Then  Sid  gathered  his  knees  under  him,  planted  his 
feet  on  his  adversary's  stomach,  and  threw  him  off 
with  a  terrific  thrust,  the  knife  being  twisted  and 
torn  from  his  grip  with  the  force  of  it.  Breathing 
hoarsely,  the  Indian  darted  up  the  chimney  and 
snatched  up  his  rifle.  By  what  stealth  he  had  got- 
ten to  a  position  above  him,  Sid  could  not  guess, 
but  instantly  he  rolled  over  and  grabbed  eagerly 
for  his  own  rifle  which  lay  nearby  in  the  snow.  He 
turned, —  to  look  down  the  cold  muzzle  of  the  In- 
dian's rifle,  while  a  glint  of  triumph  shone  in  the 
cruel  black  eyes.  For  an  instant  Sid  faced  him, 
heart  beating  wildly.  The  game  was  up,  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned! 

Then, —  a  rifle  shot  rang  out  down  in  the  valley, 
and, —  even  before  the  sound  came,  with  a  sharp 

190 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

Thunk!  the  Indian  was  violently  spun  around,  his 
rifle  bellowing  out  over  Sid's  head.  A  vacant  stare 
came  into  his  eyes,  and  he  pitched  over  backward 
and  fell.  In  a  flash  Sid  was  on  him,  and  had  pinned 
him,  face  downward,  while  a  glance  backward  down 
into  the  valley  below,  showed  the  distant  figure  of 
Scotty,  face  forward,  lying  on  the  snow,  his  rifle, 
fallen  from  nerveless  hands,  lying  in  front  of  him. 

The  blood  was  spurting  freely  from  the  Indian's 
left  side,  and  so  Sid  packed  snow  against  it  and 
bound  it  up  with  the  redskin's  dirty  bandanna. 
Then  he  undid  the  Indian's  belt  and  lashed  his  hands 
together  across  his  back. 

"  Over  the  river!! "  he  yelled  out,  exultingly. 
"  Cmon  out,  John, —  Scotty  got  him !  " 

He  raced  down  out  of  the  chimney,  slid  and 
floundered  through  the  snowbanks,  and  ran  over  to 
where  Scotty  lay,  still  and  silent. 

"  Some  shooting,  old  settler !  "  he  whispered,  with 
heartfelt  gratitude  in  his  tones,  as  he  turned  him 
over  and  began  chafing  vigorously  at  his  wrists. 
"  Wake  up,  Les, —  I  love  you  like  a  brother,  you 
darned  old  good-for-nothing! " 

Scotty  choked  and  sighed,  and  then  his  eyelids 
flickered,  and  he  opened  them. 

191 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"That's  the  stuff!"  called  Sid,  encouragingly. 
"  You  got  him !  The  row's  over,  Les !  " 

"  I  saw  —  the  —  whole  thing,"  muttered  Scotty, 
weakly.  "I  —  rested • —  my  rifle  —  over  a  rock ; 
just  —  waiting  —  to  put  in  a  shot.  Got  —  him, 
didn't  I  ?  "  he  smiled  wanly. 

"  You  bet  your  feet !  Saved  this  chicken's  life, 
you  did!"  chortled  Sid,  joyfully.  "Oh,  John!" 
he  yelled,  turning  up  to  the  cliffs,  "  get  some  water, 
quick!  He's  fainted  again." 

Big  John  came  floundering  down  through  the 
snow,  while  the  ranger  ran  over  to  the  elk  carcass 
to  look  after  the  other  outlaw. 

"  Nice  shot,  thet  war,  Scotty !  —  Whar  in  thun- 
der's yore  Injun,  <Sid?"  he  called,  dimbmg  over 
the  boulder  toward  them. 

"  I've  got  him,  hog-tied,  up  in  the  chimney," 
crowed  Sid,  happily.  "  Don't  you  worry  about  him! 
Go  get  a  hatful  of  water  for  Scotty,  here ! " 

Big  John  hurried  down  the  mountain  side  and  soon 
returned  with  a  dripping  sombrero  full  of  water. 
Scotty  revived  and  drank  like  a  camel,  and  then 
fell  back  contentedly.  Then  Big  John  set  off  up  the 
slopes  to  the  chimney  to  bring  back  the  Indian. 

"  You  boys  done  a  good  job,"  called  over  the 
192 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

ranger  from  behind  the  elk.  "I've  got  this  one 
roped.  He's  pretty  bad.  Arm  and  shoulder  all 
shot  up.  Them  .35 's  went  right  through  an'  got 
him." 

"  Some  old  meat-gun!  "  grinned  Sid.  "  We  sure 
had  a  regular  party  here,  for  a  while !  " 

"  ShoJ  did ! "  agreed  the  ranger,  laconically. 
"  We'll  git  the  hosses  an'  pack  'em  down  to  my 
cabin." 

Big  John  came  back,  staggering  down  hill  with 
the  Indian  hanging  limp  over  his  shoulder.  He  de- 
posited him  beside  the  other  outlaw  behind  the  elk. 

"  Nice  present  you  boys  has  made  th'  Gov'mint !  " 
he  laughed,  looking  down  at  the  two  bound  captives. 
"  They's  some  mussed  up ;  but  we'll  git  'em  down  the 
mountains  somehow. —  How's  the  he-ero  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right!  "  said  Sid.  "  But  his  hands 
are  cold  as  stone.  John  —  we'll  have  to  do  some- 
thing, quick !  — " 

"  Whoosh !  I  know  what  he  wants !  "  roared  Big 
John.  "  Build  a  rousin'  big  fire,  an'  fill  him  up  with 
a  whole  kag  o'  bully  ol'  tea.  C'mon, —  let's  get  to 
camp  with  him,  pronto,  boys  —  easy,  now !  " 

Tenderly  they  carried  Scotty  back  to  camp,  and 
soon  a  conflagration  was  going  out  in  front  of  the 

193 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

pup  tent.  A  little  later,  Jim  Hoge,  the  ranger,  came 
up  the  valley,  leading  four  horses.  It  looked  good 
to  the  boys  to  see  Nig  and  Sandy  again,  and  lashed 
to  their  saddles  were  two  fur  sleeping  bags,  and 
their  mess  kits  and  duffle  bags.  Scotty  was  un- 
dressed and  helped  into  his  bag,  where  he  settled 
back  on  the  browse  with  a  sigh  of  content.  His 
wound  was  ragged,  — "  but  they  ain't  nawthin' 
to  cut  up  in  thet  bag  o'  bones  of  his'n,"  laughed 
Big  John,  cheerily,  dressing  it  with  a  wool  compress 
and  fixing  a  pad  under  his  arm-pit  to  draw  the 
broken  collar-bone  ends  apart.  Then  he  bound  the 
lad's  arm  fast  to  his  side  with  a  bandanna,  and  bade 
him  rest  quiet  and  sleep  it  off. 

"  He'll  git  over  it  in  about  three  weeks,  I'm  set- 
tin'  here  to  tell  ye,"  he  declared.  "  Atter  a  day  or 
so  in  this  camp,  he'll  be  able  to  ride  down  to  the 
rag  house  and  be  reel  comfortable.  Jim,  you  an' 
me  hed  better  take  them  skunks,  yonder,  down  to 
yore  cabin,  an'  then  I'll  ride  over  the  Big  Hump  and 
send  you  in  the  ranger  over  in  the  Lewis  'n'  Clark,  to 
help  ye  take  them  out." 

And  so  it  was  settled.  They  lashed  the  two  out- 
laws on  the  saddles  of  Nig  and  Sandy,  and  rode  off 
with  them  down  the  valley.  Sid  spent  the  afternoon 

194 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  OUTLAWS 

in  making  Scotty  comfortable,  cutting  firewood  and 
skinning  out  his  six-pointer.  He  decided  to  try 
building  a  jerky  frame  himself  and  dry  out  some 
of  the  meat  to  pass  away  the  time,  and  before  he 
knew  it,  the  shadows  were  falling  in  the  basin,  and 
creeping  into  his  fur  bag,  he  turned  in  and  slept  like 
a  log. 


CHAPTER  XII 
A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

THE  sun  was  high  over  the  mountains  when 
Sid  awoke.  Scotty  was  sleeping  soundly, 
but  his  face  was  hot  and  his  pulse  racing. 
The  wound  looked  angry  and  red  when  he  took  off 
the  bandages,  and  Sid  feared  that  a  serious  infec- 
tion might  set  in.  He  got  his  medicine  kit  and 
dumped  a  pellet  of  permanganate  of  potash  into  the 
largest  aluminum  pot  of  their  mess  kit.  Filling  it 
with  water,  he  had  a  lotion  that  would  answer  for 
an  antiseptic,  and  with  it  he  bathed  Scotty's  wound, 
putting  on  a  fresh  compress  made  of  his  handker- 
chief. 

"There,  old  scout,  you  lie  still,  and  if  you  dare 
get  up  any  more  fever,  I'll  dope  you  with  aconite," 
laughed  Sid,  gayly,  hoping  to  himself  that  no  fur- 
ther complications  would  set  in.  Then  he  went  out 
and  started  skinning  out  the  huge  pelt  of  the  Ring- 
Necked  Grizzly.  The  vast  bulk  of  him,  nearly  a 
thousand  pounds,  was  almost  too  much  for  the  boy 
to  tackle  single-handed,  but  the  sky  was  clouding 

196 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

over  and  it  looked  like  snow  again,  and  Sid  did  not 
know  when  to  expect  Big  John. 

"  He'll  get  here  when  the  Lord  lets  him  —  that's 
the  way  they  figure  in  these  mountains ! "  he 
shrugged  whimsically.  "Meanwhile,  I'll  get  off 
this  pelt,  before  the  wolves  eat  it.  I  heard  one,  last 
night,  right  out  in  this  park." 

Twice  both  his  knife  and  Scotty's  had  to  be  re- 
sharpened  before  the  last  of  the  pelt  was  off,  and, 
to  roll  over  the  huge  carcass,  he  had  to  cut  a  long 
pole  pry  and  use  the  boulders  for  a  leverage.  But 
he  managed  it,  somehow,  and  then  he  made  up  a 
great  frame  of  four  ten- foot  lodgepole  pines,  and 
in  it  stretched  out  the  skin,  lacing  it  out  with  thongs 
through  holes  punched  around  the  edges. 

"  Makes  a  darn  good  wind-break,  anyhow !  "  he 
observed,  admiring  his  handiwork,  as  he  propped  up 
the  frame  against  the  rocks  in  the  cleft. 

Scotty  was  sleeping  peacefully  in  his  fur  bag  in 
the  tent,  but  his  fever  was  rising  steadily,  and  so 
Sid  fed  him  nothing  but  water,  with  a  dose, of  febri- 
fuge every  three  hours. 

With  nightfall,  came  the  snow,  in  big  sticky  flakes, 
but  Big  John  had  not  showed  up. 

"  Trouble  with  the  horses,  most  likely,"  muttered 
197 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Sid  as  he  set  about  making  a  mulligan  for  the  even- 
ing meal.  He  ate  alone  and  in  silence,  while,  look- 
ing out  of  the  tent  door,  Sid  watched  the  wind 
roaring  down  from  the  chimneys  and  blowing  the 
snow  in  great  white  sheets  across  the  basin.  He 
devoutly  hoped  that  Big  John  would  not  attempt  to 
come  up  in  the  storm.  A  man,  no  matter  how  ex- 
perienced, would  do  well  to  den  up  and  keep  quiet 
in  such  weather,  and  besides,  the  horses  would  need 
him,  constantly,  if  none  of  them  were  to  come  to 
grief. 

Inside  of  the  tent,  Scotty  raved  and  muttered  in 
his  sleeping  bag  and  he  did  not  respond  at  all  to 
fever  medicines,  so  Sid  abandoned  all  medicines  and 
busied  himself  all  next  day  dashing  out  into  the 
storm  and  bringing  in  firewood,  for  it  was  essential 
to  keep  the  tent  warm.  More  than  once  he  peered 
anxiously  down  the  valley  for  signs  of  Big  John, 
but  the  boy's  courage  was  case-hardened  by  now, 
and  he  kept  up  a  stout  heart  and  looked  for  the  best. 
All  day  long  the  storm  raged,  while  deeper  and 
deeper  grew  the  drifts.  Constantly  Sid  had  to  beat 
against  the  tent  walls  to  drive  off  the  settling  banks 
of  snow  on  its  steep  roof,  and  higher  and  higher 
grew  the  wall  of  it  creeping  up  the  sides. 

198 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

But  the  boy  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  the  care- 
free light-heartedness  of  youth.  He  loved  to  battle 
with  the  elements,  and,  above  all,  he  loved  these 
rugged  mountains.  To  him  it  seemed  a  man's  coun- 
try, a  land  of  plenty  to  those  who  knew  how  to 
master  the  wilderness  conditions  that  to  ordinary 
folk  would  have  been  unsurmountable  hardships. 
He  had  no  end  of  meat,  plenty  of  salt,  a  sack  of 
spuds,  another  of  onions,  and  one  of  dried  fruits, 
and,  in  the  mess  kit  were  paraffined  bags  of  sugar, 
coffee,  tea,  bacon,  and  corn  meal, —  he  should 
worry  I 

"If  Scotty'd  only  get  well,  I'd  stay  here  for- 
ever ! "  he  sighed,  going  over  to  feel  his  chum's  hot, 
flushed  face.  His  own  health  was  amazing.  The 
mountains  had  done  just  what  the  major  predicted, 
3Ut  beef  on  him  like  a  steer,  and  he  had  grown  rugged 
and  husky  in  body.  And,  in  mind,  there  was  a  still 
greater  change  —  from  the  backwardness  and  timid- 
ity of  youth  to  the  self-reliance  and  force  fulness  of 
a  man, —  a  mountain  man!  "Old-timer" — the 
post-graduate  degree  of  the  mountains,  fitted  him 
exactly ! 

The  twilight  fell  swiftly  that  day,  and  no  Big 
John  came.  Where  in  thunder  he  could  have  got 

199 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

to,  Sid  could  only  conjecture.  They  might  have 
had  another  fight  with  the  elk-tooth  men,  or  some 
accident  may  have  befallen  Big  John  or  the  horses  — 
Sid  could  not  imagine  a  man  like  him  denning  up, 
in  the  day  time,  only  a  few  miles  down  in  the  valley, 
for  any  mere  storm ! 

"  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  go  out  tracking  him, 
next !  "  he  laughed  to  himself.  "  Well,  I  can't  do 
anything  at  all  now,  at  least,  until  Scotty  gets  bet- 
ter." 

He  went  over  to  the  sleeping  boy,  woke  him  gen- 
tly, and  started  carefully  to  unfasten  his  bandages. 
"  Easy  now,  old  settler,  it's  time  your  bandages 
were  changed,"  he  crooned,  caressing  him  affection- 
ately. Then,  he  jumped  back,  with  a  glad  yelp  of 
amazement!  Scotty  was  in  profuse  perspiration, 
and  his  fever  was  breaking!  Sid  stifled  a  glad 
whoop  of  joy,  and  then  told  him  the  encouraging 
news.  Carefully  he  opened  the  wound,  which  had 
closed  over  and  was  yellow  underneath.  He  opened 
a  thin,  hot  membrane  with  his  pocket-knife,  and 
then  washed  it  with  antiseptic,  and  put  in  a  drain 
made  of  a  strip  of  linen. 

"  There,  scout,  you're  coming  along  fine !  We'll 
keep  her  open  with  that  drain,  and  let  her  heal  up 

200 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

from  the  bottom,  like  the  doctor  did  that  case  of 
broken  arm  of  mine  back  at  school,  you  remember?  " 

Scotty  nodded.  "When  do  we  eat?"  he  asked, 
interestedly. 

"  Nothing  didding !  You  drink  all  you  want  to, 
and  you'll  make  me  feel  'fine  if  you  just  sweat  like 
a  bull.  If  your  fever's  gone  to-morrow,  I'll  fill 
you  up  full  of  elk  steak  and  bear  mulligan.  We've 
got  more  than  a  thousand  pounds  of  meat,  kid !  " 

"  Lead  me  to  it !"  smiled  Scotty,  weakly,  and  then 
he  closed  his  eyes  and  dropped  off  to  sleep  again. 

Sid  whistled  happily  as  he  poked  up  the  fire  and 
put  on  more  logs.  The  long,  menacing  ff  Ah — oooo 
—  oooo!"  of  the  timber  wolf  floated  down  through 
the  forest,  but  he  didn't  care.  He  was  used  to  see- 
ing their  green  eyes  shining  in  the  firelight,  and  they 
had,  so  far,  never  come  near  the  camp,  preferring  to 
fight  and  skulk  around  the  carcasses. 

The  evening  wore  on,  with  the  storm  abating  and 
streams  of  sparks  shooting  up  into  the  night  as  Sid 
squatted  in  the  firelight,  cleaning  the  neglected  rifles 
and  singing  cheerfully  to  himself.  Nothing  mat- 
tered now; — Scotty  was  going  to  get  well!  The 
howl  of  the  wolves  seemed  more  frequent  though, 
to-night,  and  they  were  traveling,  hunting  some- 

201 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

thing,  Sid  thought,  as  he  raised  his  head  to  listen 
to  their  calls  and  answers.  About  midnight  they 
usually  visited  the  frozen  carcasses,  but  he  knew  that 
they  much  preferred  warm,  fresh  meat,  and  their 
hunting  cry  was  a  sign  that  the  storm  was  now  over. 

Suddenly  Sid  jumped  to  his  feet.  A  rifle  shot 
had  rung  out  through  the  night !  It  was  in  the  dis- 
tant timber,  as  he  could  tell  by  its  faint,  muffled  re- 
verberations. Hardly  a  whisper  was  it,  just  a  dull 
muttered,  Rraamp!  like  a  stealthy  murmur  through 
the  silence  of  the  mountains.  The  boy  listened, 
earnestly.  Who  would  be  out  in  the  forest  this 
night?  Who  could  be  so  foolhardy  as  to  venture 
out,  with  the  storm  hardly  over  and  the  snow  lying 
in  deep,  treacherous  drifts?  Who  —  but  Big  John? 

Another  shot  came  rolling  up  through  the  peaks, 
a  trifle  stronger  and  nearer,  now,  it  seemed  to  Sid. 
And  then,  again,  he  heard  the  faint,  distant  howl  of 
the  wolves.  Sid's  blood  curdled,  and  he  jumped  for 
the  tent  and  grabbed  up  clip  after  clip  of  cartridges. 
Big  John  was  coming,  from  somewhere,  had  been 
attempting  to  reach  them  before  nightfall, —  that 
was  certain!  And  he  was  now  beset  by  the  wolf 
pack!  They  would  attack  a  lone  hunter,  any  time, 
Sid  knew.  The  Michigan  and  Ontario  backwoods 

202 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

had  been  full  of  stories  of  just  such  attacks,  lately. 
How  much  more,  then,  in  these  great,  lonely  moun- 
tains, a  thousand  square  miles  of  forest,  with  never 
a  railroad  nor  a  settlement  anywhere  within  forty 
miles!  Sid  put  on  his  great  coat  hurriedly  and 
buckled  on  Scotty's  belt  ax,  with  the  small  .32-20 
revolver  on  his  opposite  hip.  Waking  Scotty,  he 
told  him  of  his  misgivings  about  Big  John,  and  put 
the  red-haired  lad's  .38  six-shooter  in  his  hand. 

"  I  got  to  leave  you  for  a  bit,  old  top.  They 
won't  come  near  the  camp,  most  likely,  as  there's 
still  plenty  of  carcass  left,  but  we'll  hear  you  and 
come  if  they  do  —  Listen!  " 

A  faint  Pop-pop-pop  —  pop!  came  from  across 
the  basin.  It  sounded,  evidently,  from  the  big  tim- 
ber, where  Scotty  had  first  trailed  his  seven-pointer. 
"  That's  our  old  signal,  again,  fellah ! "  cried  Sid. 
"  It's  Big  John,  all  right !  And  they've  got  him  — 
treed!" 

"  All  right  —  go  get  him, —  don't  mind  me !  "  said 
Scotty,  "  but  for  the  love  of  Pete,  Sid,  don't  let  'em 
get  you!" 

11  Oh,  111  take  the  carbide  lamp  and  shine  'em,"  re- 
torted Sid,  confidently.  "  There  can't  be  more  than 
a  small  pack,  say  eight  or  ten  of  them.  With  the 

203 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

light  we  ought  to  make  a  clean-up.  It's  getting 
through  the  snow  that  bothers  me! " 

It  did!  It  seemed  to  Sid  that  that  snow  was 
neck-high,  as  he  wallowed  through  it,  with  the  white 
glare  of  the  carbide  lamp  lighting  up  his  way  ahead. 
The  incessant  Pop!  of  Big  John's  six-shooter  and  the 
occasional  crash  of  his  rifle  served  as  a  fine  guide, 
and  deep  down  under  the  snow,  Sid  could  feel  the 
solid  snow  packed  by  their  old  tracks,  which  made 
his  going  easier  and  surer.  The  boy  hurried  on 
eagerly.  He  was  not  particularly  frightened;  only 
three  or  four  wolves  at  once  would  be  bold  enough 
to  attack  him,  and,  with  the  light  in  hand  he  was 
master.  He  whooped  ahead  to  Big  John,  and  was 
rejoiced  to  hear  the  unmistakable  ring  of  the  giant 
cowman's  voice  in  reply. 

*'  Shine  'em,  son !  Shine  'em ! "  it  called. 
"  They's  some  of  'em  have  gone  an'  left  me,  an' 
they'll  be  atter  you,  pronto !  " 

Sid  swept  the  ray  of  the  lamp  far  and  wide 
through  the  forest.  Now  and  then  green  eyeballs 
showed,  and  gray,  skulking  forms  hovered  under 
the  distant  spruces.  But  he  pressed  on,  feeling  his 
way  to  Big  John's  tree  by  his  calls. 

"  Fotch  thet  light  over  hyar,  sonny,"  called  Big 
204 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

John,  from  near  by,  now.  "  Shine  thet  thar  gray 
kyyotee  fer  me  —  I  cain't  see  'im  nohow ! "  Sid 
flashed  the  lamp  over  the  snow,  until  it  followed 
over  a  loping  gray  form,  and  then  Big  John's  rifle 
cracked  out  and  the  wolf  collapsed.  Except  for  his 
death-howl,  the  pack  was  silent,  and  the  underbrush 
under  the  spruces  snapped  and  swished  with  circling 
noises  of  their  running  feet. 

Then  Sid  got  in  a  shot,  with  the  little  .32-20,  at 
one  who  stopped  for  a  moment,  his  eyeballs  shining 
clear  in  the  lamp  ray,  and  the  rest,  discouraged  and 
cowardly  as  they  were,  skulked  back  into  the  forest. 

"Pshaw!  Easy  clean-up!"  grumbled  Sid. 
"  Where  in  thunder  you  been,  John?  " 

"Me?  Heck!  — Listen  to  him?  — Reg'lar 
'cock  of  the  walk/  ain't  he?"  bantered  Big  John. 
"  Say,  you'll  go  back  an'  lick  yore  ol'  dad,  the 
major,  ef  I  don't  larn  ye  better!  "  he  laughed,  jump- 
ing down  out  of  the  low  branches  of  the  spruce. 
"  Yaas,  I  got  treed  by  them  varmints  all  right. 
Couldn't  see  to  shoot,  nohow,  sonny!  Where  I 
bin?  —  Say  —  I  had  to  take  out  them  hosses  over 
the  Big  Hump  yestiddy,  right  sudden  soon!  Th' 
snow's  four  feet  deep,  up  yonder,  an'  I  hed  to  break 
trail  to  git  'em  out  as  'twas.  Then  I  come  back  in 

205 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

heah  from  th'  ranch  on  my  webs  —  been  moggin' 
along  all  day  through  this  yere  leetle  zephyr  — 
How's  Scotty?" 

"  Coming  on  fine !  I  left  him  in  camp,  with  a 
six-gun  in  his  hand,  and  a  knife  in  his  teeth,  ready 
to  sell  his  life  dear  —  to  the  last  gasp !  "  laughed 
Sid.  "  Got  to  do  something  like  that,  when  my 
friends  get  treed  up  by  varmints." 

"  Gee !  He  talks  jes'  like  a  mountain  man,  durned 
ef  he  don't ! "  gurgled  Big  John.  "  Hyar's  yore 
webs, —  son, —  an'  hyar's  Scotty's.  Toted  'em  in 
on  me  back.  I'm  aimin'  to  make  a  toboggan  an' 
haul  out  the  game  heads,  an'  Scotty  too,  ef  he  cain't 
walk.  Les'  git  to  camp  —  shore,  I'm  tired !  " 

"  Thirty  miles  out  with  the  horses  to  Frozen  Dog 
ranch,  part  of  it  breaking  trail  over  the  Divide;  a 
sleep ;  and  then  thirty  miles  'back  on  the  webs, —  and 
all  through  a  raging  storm  —  it  took  an  iron  man 
to  do  that !  "  thought  Sid,  as  they  shuffled  along  over 
the  snow,  with  the  lamp  ray  lighting  up  the  forest 
ahead. 

"  Some  Marathon !  "  was  all  he  said,  however,  and 
Big  John  was  too  tired  even  to  joke  back. 

The  snowshoes  felt  good  to  Sid,  as  they  sped 
along.  No  floundering  and  punching  holes  under 

206 


A  LITTLE  VARMINT  HUNT 

down  timber;  no  weary  hoisting  a  leg  out  of  one 
pesthole,  only  to  make  another  with  it  —  this  free- 
dom and  ease  of  skimming  over  the  snow,  was  what 
the  red  man's  invention,  the  snowshoe,  spelt  to  him. 
Big  John  had  brought  the  long  Cree,  three-bar  shoes, 
with  up-turned  nose  and  fine  webbing,  such  as  would 
go  easily  over  light,  powdery  mountain  snow.  In 
a  short  while  they  loped  into  camp, —  to  find  Scotty 
sound  asleep,  with  the  six-shooter  lying  idly  in  his. 
hand.  The  show  had  not  been  exciting  enough  for 
him! 


CHAPTER  XIII 
SNOW-BLIND 

NEXT  day  Scotty  woke  up,  to  demand  a 
whole  pail  of  mulligan  at  one  feed. 
"  Gosh !  I'm  empty,  clear  down  to  my  toes, 
Doc,— *-le's  have  something!  "  he  begged  of  Sid. 

But  the  latter  only  grinned  delightedly,  as  he  hove 
two  bowls  of  strong  elk  broth  into  his  hungry  pa- 
tient, letting  him  watch  in  vain  the  disappearing  of 
corn  pones  and  elk  steaks,  and  hot  coffee  with  con- 
densed cream  galore. 

"Help!  I'm  famished!"  yelled  Scotty.  "You 
wait,  Sid!  I'll  lick  you  from  here  clear  back  to 
Frozen  Dog,  when  I  get  going  again ! " 

Then  Sid  and  Big  John  took  the  belt  ax  and  went 
timber  cruising  for  an  ash  tree.  They  managed  to 
cut  down  a  small,  straight  one,  about  ten  inches 
thick.  Then  Big  John  cut  thin  wedges  of  pin-oak, 
and  he  and  Sid  split  up  a  length  of  the  ash  trunk 
about  eight  feet  long  into  boards.  It  amazed  Sid 
to  see  how  easily  ash  would  split,  under  the  oak 
wedges.  They  finally  came  back  to  camp  with  four 

208 


SNOW-BLIND 

thin  strips  of  it,  eight  feet  long  and  four  inches 
wide,  which  they  smoothed  down  on  one  side  with 
their  hunting  knives,  to  make  four  planks  for  the 
toboggan.  Cutting  thongs  of  elk  hide,  five  hard 
maple  cross  braces  were  lashed  at  intervals  across 
the  four  ash  strips,  the  thongs  being  sunk  in  shal- 
low channels  cut  on  the  under  side  of  the  strips. 
The  holes  were  drilled  for  the  most  part  with  Sid's 
.32-20,  which  left  a  fine,  clean  bullet  hole.  Above 
the  cross  braces  were  lashed  long  side  rails  of  tough, 
gray  pine,  and  then  the  front  of  the  toboggan  was 
ready  for  steaming  and  bending.  This  was  done 
with  a  vast  amount  of  boiled  shirt,  wrapped  around 
the  planks  when  dripping  with  scalding  water  from 
the  camp  kettle.  In  this  way  the  front  was  bent  in 
a  curve  and  secured  so  with  thick,  twisted  rawhide 
thongs,  which  led  down  to  the  front  ends  of  the 
side  rails< 

It  took  two  days  to  make  this  toboggan,  and  it 
looked  exactly  like  an  original  Micmac  or  Cree  In- 
dian model  when  done.  Scotty,  meanwhile,  was  up 
and  about,  his  arm  in  a  sling  under  his  great  coat, 
and  he  had  even  tried  short  trips  with  the  snow- 
shoes. 

On  the  third  morning,  Big  John  awoke  them  with 
209 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

the  stentorian  hail,  "Roll  yere  blankets!3'  the  cow- 
man's yell  for  breaking  camp,  and  the  boys  jumped 
out  of  their  fur  bags  with  alacrity,  for  they  were 
eager  to  be  off.  The  elk  head  and  the  hide  of  the 
Ring-Necked  Grizzly  were  stowed  on  the  toboggan, 
just  aft  of  the  tea  kettle,  and  behind  them  came  the 
bags  and  duffle,  with  Scotty  riding  atop  the  load. 
The  rest  of  the  meat  was  cached  high  in  a  lobsticked 
spruce,  the  branches  of  which  Big  John  had  lopped 
off  some  distance  up,  to  keep  away  predatory  small 
animals,  and  then  he  and  Sid  threw  the  hauling 
straps  of  the  toboggan  over  their  shoulders  and  the 
long  march  home  began. 

It  surprised  Sid  to  see  how  lightly  the  toboggan 
hauled.  With  Scotty  aboard,  the  load  was  all  of 
four  hundred  pounds,  but  it  slipped  along  easily 
over  the  snow  under  their  combined  pull.  It,  how- 
ever, took  him  some  time  and  many  objurgations 
from  Big  John  to  learn  how  to  pull  on  the  strap 
and  at  the  same  time  make  the  spraddling  lift  of 
the  snowshoe  which  keeps  one  web  from  coming 
down  on  the  other  and  locking  both  fast.  But, 
with  much  laughter  and  many  tumbles,  he  learned 
the  needful  team  work,  and  they  got  on  swiftly  on 
the  level  and  slightly  rising  ground.  On  the  slopes 

210 


SNOW-BLIND 

the  hauling  was  killing  work  for  both,  and  even 
Scotty  had  to  get  out  and  help  pull  with  his  one 
free  arm. 

By  late  afternoon,  when  it  was  time  to  make 
camp,  Sid  was  dog  tired.  Big  John  led  the  way 
under  a  clump  of  spruces,  on  the  edge  of  an  open 
valley,  with  the  snowy  mountains  frowning  all 
around  them.  The  place  looked  cold  and  desolate, 
with  the  wind  cutting  and  whistling  down  the  slopes, 
but  they  fell  to  with  their  snowshoes  as  shovels 
and  cleared  away  a  space  for  the  fire  and  the  pup 
tent,  put  the  latter  up,  and  'filled  it  with  browse,  and, 
in  half  an  hour  things  were  cooking  in  the  pots. 
And  so  night  came  down,  with  the  whole  party  warm 
and  comfortable,  and  at  peace  from  the  day-long 
fight  against  the  hardships  of  the  snow  trail. 

"  Yander,  over  them  buttes,  is  whar  we  cached 
the  ram  head  an'  the  cat  skin/'  said  Big  John,  as 
they  all  prodded  into  the  camp  kettle,  for  Scotty, 
too,  was  now  fraoging  as  hungrily  as  any  one. 
"  We'll  stop  here  for  a  day,  an'  you  go  an'  git  them 
trophies,  Sid,  with  the  sladge,  an'  then  we'll  shove 
along  fer  the  Big  Hump.  Some  sassy  goin',  boys, 
till  we  make  the  Divide,  an'  then, —  whoosh !  —  it'll 
be  slidin'  down  hill  all  the  rest  of  the  way! " 

211 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Leaving  Scotty  to  rest  in  camp,  while  Big  John 
went  "  foirdin' "  for  grouse,  Sid  set  out  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  dragging  the  empty  toboggan  be- 
hind him.  It  slid  along  easily,  until  he  came  to  the 
country  of  the  bare  rock  buttes,  where  no  snow 
would  ever  stay  put.  But,  lifting  it  along,  he  finally 
got  through  them  and  came  to  where  the  deep,  wide, 
smooth  basin  of  glaring  white  snow,  the  scene  of 
their  former  ram  hunt,  spread  out  far  below  him. 

"  Now,  then  —  here  goes  for  a  real  toboggan 
slide ! "  laughed  Sid  to  himself,  joyously,  kicking 
the  toboggan  into  position.  "  You  watch  my 
smoke!" 

He  sat  himself  down  on  it,  with  the  snowshoes 
under  him,  and  started  down.  Like  a  greased  pig, 
it  gathered  momentum,  and  then  shot  down  in  a 
flying  scud  of  snow,  until  he  soared  down  into  the 
basin  and  fetched  up  in  the  deep  curve  of  the  bot- 
tom a  mile  below.  He  yelled  with  excitement  at  the 
breathless  going,  and  got  up  with  his  eyes  aglow 
and  his  nerves  all  a-tingle  with  the  pleasurable  ex- 
citement of  it. 

"  This  is  the  life! "  he  yelled  to  the  surrounding 
mountains.  "  Gorry !  —  but  I  don't  want  to  go 
home!" 

212 


SNOW-BLIND 

All  around  him  the  bare  snow  fields  glared  with 
the  bright  sunlight.  Sid  noticed  his  eyes  squinting 
and  squidging  with  the  intensity  of  it,  and  sharp 
pains  shot  through  them  at  intervals,  but,  aside  from 
feeling  in  his  pockets  for  his  blue  glasses  and  find- 
ing that  they  had  been  forgotten  and  left  behind  in 
his  duffle  bag,  he  gave  it  no  further  attention.  All 
his  hunting,  so  far,  had  been  in  the  forest,  where  the 
shadows  of  the  trees  covered  the  snow  with  their 
blue  softness,  and  there  had  been  no  glare  to  reckon 
with.  He  had  furthermore  spent  a  number  of  days 
in  the  bright,  snowfilled  elk  park,  and  so  imagined 
that  his  eyes  had  become  immuned  to  snow  blind- 
ness. But  this  was  different.  With  no  blue  hori- 
zon to  afford  relief,  everywhere  he  looked  were 
dazzling  fields  of  white  spread  out  before  him. 

The  eyes  got  worse  and  worse,  and  the  boy  began 
to  worry.  He  searched  carefully  in  his  clothing, 
again  and  again,  as  his  webs  slowly  sent  him  uphill 
in  long  zig-zags,  and  finally  he  arrived  under  the 
rocky  buttes  where  they  had  had  the  "  party  "  with 
the  catamount.  All  tracks  of  the  occurrence  had 
been  obliterated  by  the  blizzard,  buried  at  least  a 
foot  below,  but,  after  securing  the  skin  and  turning 
south,  he  went  along  the  ridge,  and  after  an  hour's 

213 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

plodding,  with  eyes  smarting  and  filled  with  shoot- 
ing pains  from  the  snow  glare,  he  made  out  their 
ram  lob-stick. 

A  small,  dark  bundle  in  it  told  him  that  the  cache 
was  still  there,  and  he  quickened  his  pace  with  a 
shout  of  eagerness.  Arrived  at  the  tree,  he  swarmed 
up  it,  cut  the  frozen  thongs,  and  dropped  the  head, 
hide  and  meat  of  his  ram  to  the  snow. 

Then  he  descended,  feeling  queer  all  over.  The 
climb  had  brought  on  a  dizziness  and  f  aintness  which 
soon  developed  into  nausea,  and  the  lad  was  forced 
to  lie  down  in  the  snow,  unable  to  hardly  move. 

This  affair  was  getting  serious,  he  reflected,  bit- 
terly. "  Mistakes  do  count,  in  this  game ! "  he 
groaned.  "  Every  little  one  of  them !  Father 
warned  me  against  this,  and  kept  telling  me  never 
to  be  without  my  blue  glasses  —  but  one  has  to  have 
experience  to  drive  it  in !  —  I'm  snowblind !  " 

He  lay  on  the  snow,  wretched  and  cold,  for  some 
time.  All  his  strength  seemed  to  have  left  him,  and 
a  dull  lethargy  filled  his  body.  Then  a  shivering 
chill  overtook  him,  and  to  do  battle  against  it  his 
will  power  asserted  itself. 

"  This  is  bad  medicine!  "  he  muttered.  "  I'm  in 
for  it,  and  have  got  to  do  something,  pronto ! " 

214 


SNOW-BLIND 

He  staggered  over  to  their  old  camp  site  and 
kicked  up  the  poles  of  the  pup  tent  out  of  the  deep 
snow.  With  them  he  propped  up  the  toboggan. 
To  make  camp,  to  make  a  home  or  a  hut,  where  he 
could  lie  down  like  a  sick  man,  was  his  one  thought. 
His  eyes  hurt  so,  now,  that  he  could  not  open  them 
at  all,  and  he  bound  his  bandanna  around  them,  con- 
tent with  the  mere  glimpse  of  the  snow  under  foot 
that  it  gave, —  and  even  that  caused  him  excruciating 
pain.  He  dug  out  the  snow  under  the  toboggan 
with  his  shoes  and  piled  it  on  each  side,  and  then 
beat  out  and  straightened  the  tough,  frozen  ram 
skin  and  laid  it  in  the  snow  trench  under  the  tob- 
boggan.  Then  he  crawled  into  it  and  lay  down,  his 
eyes  smarting  and  his  head  throbbing  with  the 
pain. 

Its  warmth  helped,  and  for  hours  he  lay  there, 
too  miserable  to  move,  until  the  dimness  of  approach- 
ing sunset  warned  him  that  night  was  coming  on. 
The  glare  of  the  snow  was  less  intolerable,  now,  and 
he  was  able  to  sit  up  and  feebly  dig  down  to  their  old 
fire  site.  The  charred  embers  and  stumps  were  still 
there,  and  he  managed  to  cut  shavings  and  make  a 
small  fire.  He  found  that  he  had  no  appetite,  and, 
as  night  came  on,  he  let  the  last  of  the  fire  die  down, 

215 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

rolled  himself  in  the  ram  and  cougar  skins,  and 
dozed  off  into  a  troubled  sleep. 

Next  morning  he  got  up  in  the  freezing  dawn, 
shivering  like  a  leaf,  and  as  low-spirited  and  miser- 
able as  only  snow  blindness  can  make  a  man.  The 
boy  was  well  trained  in  woodcraft,  and  he  knew  well 
the  dangers  to  which  he  was  now  subjected.  Snow- 
blindness  will  last  for  days  and  weeks,  if  not  cured 
by  the  only  thing  that  can  cure  it  —  protection  from 
the  glare  of  the  snow.  With  the  coming  up  of  the 
sun  his  trouble  would  go  on  and  grow  worse. 

He  took  off  the  bandanna  —  to  'find  that  his  eyes 
were  gummed  tight  shut.  He  tried  clearing  off  the 
scabs,  but  a  pain  like  a  knife  shot  through  his  eyes 
the  instant  a  ray  struck  them, —  even  of  this  cold, 
half-light  —  and  made  him  glad  of  his  protection 
that  nature  had  drawn  over  them. 

Sid  was  thoroughly  frightened,  now.  He  was 
totally  blind,  unable  to  see  anything,  and  he  was 
deadly  cold.  To  make  a  fire  right  away  was  abso- 
lutely essential.  He  groped  his  way  over  to  the  tree, 
climbed  it,  and  broke  off  as  many  dead  branches 
as  he  could  reach.  All  together  they  would  not  give 
him  more  than  an  hour  or  so  of  fire,  so  a  tiny  one 
would  have  to  suffice.  Sid's  brain  was  active  now, 

216 


SNOW-BLIND 

for  the  pain  in  his  eyes  was  duller  and  the  nausea 
of  the  day  before  had  given  way  to  a  consuming 
appetite.  He  roused  himself,  to  fight  for  his  life  — 
for  that  was  what  this  business  amounted  to  in 
the  long  run.  He  must  do  something  definite,  that 
very  day! 

First  he  rolled  snowballs  and  made  a  fort  of  them, 
close  around  his  little  hut,  chinking  everything  with 
snow  but  the  tiniest  opening,  through  which  to  crawl 
in,  and  filling  in  the  upper  spaces  with  his  snow- 
shoes  packed  with  snow.  Then  he  dug  for  some 
rocks  and  made  a  little  fireplace  inside  the  hut. 
Groping  about  for  the  dead  branches,  he  found 
them,  one  by  one,  and  stored  them  in  his  hut.  By 
this  time  the  sun  was  coming  up  over  the  mountains 
to  the  east,  and  even  its  mild  glare  drove  him  in- 
side the  hut.  Feeling  with  his  hands,  he  cut  a  pile 
of  shavings  and  built  a  small  fire.  Then  he  cut  a 
steak  off  the  ram  meat,  thawed  it  out  and  cooked  it 
over  the  fire.  With  this  inside  of  him,  he  lay  back, 
warm  and  relaxed,  to  think  earnestly  over  how  to 
get  out  of  his  predicament.  Big  John  would  prob- 
ably track  him,  to-day,  unless  something  might  in- 
terfere, but  then,  they  might  wait  until  nightfall  for 
him  and  not  set  out  until  the  morrow.  Again,  his 

217 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

woodsman's  pride  urged  him  to  try,  some  way,  to 
beat  Nature  and  come  back  to  camp  triumphant, 
That  was  the  old-timer's  way.  Each  man  depended 
solely  on  himself,  in  these  mountains,  for  a  chance 
meeting  with  a  distant  neighbor  was  a  matter  of 
weeks  of  waiting.  Sid,  secretly,  in  his  heart,  hoped 
that  Big  John  might  not  do  the  rescuing.  If  there 
was  any  way  that  he  could  get  out  alone,  he  wanted 
to  try  it. 

He  began  by  recalling  everything  that  the  major 
and  the  doctor  had  ever  said  about  snowblindness. 
It  came  from  the  sun's  rays  striking  up  into  the  eye 
from  the  snow  surface.  Anything  that  would  keep 
out  those  rays  would  answer;  the  direct  beams, 
straight  into  the  eye  from  snow  banks  and  snowy 
hillsides  did  not  matter,  for  the  eye  was  protected 
from  them  by  its  organism.  But  the  under  rays 
reached  a  spot  where  there  was  no  protection,  and 
caused  the  sickening  misery  of  snow-blindness.  He 
recalled  that  people  had  tried  to  protect  themselves 
by  painting  around  the  eyes  with  charcoal  from 
the  camp  fire,  but  that  it  did  not  work  because  it 
gave  no  protection  against  those  rays  coming  up 
from  the  snow. 

How,  then,  did  the  Indians  manage  it?  For  they 
218 


SNOW-BLIND 

had  no  blue  glasses,  and  yet  were  as  subject  to  snow- 
blindness  as  any  one.  Something  simple  and  forest- 
made,  he  was  sure,  for  that  was  the  Indian's  way. 
But  the  major,  in  all  his  talks  on  them,  had  never 
once  touched  on  this  point.  Then  the  boy's  mind 
began  to  wander  back  into  his  various  trips  to  the 
Natural  History  Museum.  'He  had  always  haunted 
the  ethnological  hall,  note  book  in  hand,  picking 
up  ideas  and  sketching  implements  that  the  Indians 
made  and  used.  His  memory  fixed  itself  on  a  case 
labeled  "  Dene."  They  were  a  tribe  of  Indians  of 
the  Far  North,  where  snow  was  with  them  nearly  all 
the  year  around.  He  went  over  every  object  in 
that  case  —  snowshoes,  toboggans,  sledges,  har- 
poons, fur  mats,  the  tepee-tent  of  the  Far  North  — 
trying  to  recall  something  that  might  have  a  use 
against  snowblindness. 

And  at  length  he  found  it !  Very  obscure  it  was, 
but  he  seemed  to  recall  a  small  mask  —  made  of 
birch  bark,  wasn't  it  ?  —  with  eyeholes  cut  in  it  ? 

"Bluie!  That's  the  thing!"  he  yelled,  starting 
up  from  the  ram's  fur.  "  But  —  hold  on  —  that 
was  not  all ;  I've  missed  the  big  point.  That  mask, 
with  just  eyeholes  cut  in  it,  wouldn't  do  the  trick. 
There  was  more.  Le's  see  I " 

219 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

Sid  cudgeled  his  memory  again.  How  were 
those  eyeholes  made?  That  was  the  big  point! 
Then  he  remembered. 

"  Cracky !  I've  got  it !  "  he  exclaimed,  slapping 
his  leg.  "  Those  eyeholes  were  cut  out,  all  except 
the  bottoms,  and  then  those  little  flaps  of  bark  were 
turned  outward,  sticking  out  flat,  like  small  ledges 
under  the  eyes!  That's  what  keeps  the  reflected 
rays  from  the  snow  from  getting  into  your  eyes! 
Simple  as  rolling  off  a  log  —  but  it  does  the  busi- 
ness —  the  Indian's  way !  " 

How  to  get  some  birch  bark  was,  however,  a  big 
problem,  and  he  cogitated  over  it  for  some  time, 
warming  himself  over  his  small  fire.  It  would  be 
half  a  mile  down  to  timber  line  from  where  he  was, 
and,  even  then,  blind,  how  could  he  hope  to  get  down 
to  a  birch,  even  find  one?  Suppose  there  were  no 
birches  at  all  in  this  valley?  He  knew  that  there 
would  be  plenty  of  them  along  Big  River,  but  that 
was  seven  miles  down  into  the  valley,  after  scaling 
the  Garden  Wall  1  Impossible,  for  a  blind  boy ! 

He  lay  over  and  groaned,  and  then  thought  some 
more.  What  had  he  for  a  substitute?  His  mind 
went  over  his  personal  equipment  without  a  satis- 
factory solution.  Canvas  would  be  too  limp.  Card- 

220 


SNOW-BLIND 

board  would  be  fine,  but  that  commodity  existed 
only  at  the  railroad  station,  forty-five  miles  away! 
He  turned  to  Nature  again.  She  gave  the  birch 
bark;  why  not  also  the  —  the  —  ram's  skin!  A 
tingle  of  joy  shot  through  him  at  this  thought 
Without  stirring  out  of  the  protection  of  his  hut,  he 
had  solved  it,  by  his  mind  alone !  Gee,  it  was  great 
to  have  a  think-piece  on  his  shoulders!  He  never 
appreciated  and  admired  his  mind  half  enough,  up 
to  that  moment.  His  body  had  been  his  principal 
concern,  and  what  it  could  do  interested  him.  Now 
the  old  bean  had  come  to  the  rescue !  That  hide  was 
stiff  and  half  frozen;  all  it  needed  was  careful  cut- 
ting and  scraping  of  enough  of  it  to  make  a  snow 
mask. 

Sid  set  to  work,  propping  open  one  eye  occasion- 
ally. In  the  dim  light  of  the  hut,  the  sharp  eye  pain 
did  not  come,  and,  with  his  pocket  knife  he  soon  had 
a  mask  fashioned,  cutting  and  turning  out  the  eye- 
flaps  carefully  and  shaving  the  fur  off  their  upper 
surfaces.  It  was  a  piece  of  flanky  hide,  and  the 
soft  fur  came  off  easily  under  the  scraping  of  the 
knife.  Then  he  set  it  outside,  to  freeze  and  harden. 

He  cut  two  narrow  thongs  off  the  hide,  and  then, 
after  waiting  half  an  hour  with  eager  impatience,  he 

221 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

brought  in  the  mask,  tied  on  the  thongs  and  put  it 
on.  Then  with  what  anxious  foreboding  did  he 
belt  on  his  great  coat  and  crawl  out  of  the  hut  —  to 
try  the  Great  Experiment !  Could  he  travel  ? 

A  piercing,  dizzy  wave  of  snow  blindness  greeted 
him  as  he  put  out  his  head.  The  snow  fields  were 
dazzling  white,  and  their  rays  cut  like  needles 
through  the  slits  in  his  gummed  lids.  The  boy  stood 
up  —  and  was  surprised  to  find  it  not  so  bad  that 
way,  although  his  eyes  were  throbbing  and  he  could 
not  open  them.  But  he  set  to  work,  determined  to 
travel,  at  least  until  he  met  Big  John.  Packing  the 
ram  fur,  catamount  skin,  horns  and  meat  on  the 
toboggan,  and  knocking  the  snow  off  his  snowshoes, 
he  set  out.  Now  and  then  he  opened  his  eyes  just  a 
tiny  slit,  to  take  a  glimpse  at  his  tracks,  but  he  was 
slowly  getting  on !  He  crossed  the  basin,  and  toiled 
up  the  long  zigzags  toward  the  rocks.  These  it  was 
necessary  to  skirt,  to  find  a  new  path  where  there 
would  be  snow,  for  the  loaded  toboggan  could  not 
be  budged  over  rock. 

Slowly  his  eyes  grew  better  and  more  comfortable 
as  he  packed  the  skins  and  heads,  one  by  one,  over 
the  worst  of  the  rock  and  started  off  along  the  other 
side.  Sid  noted,  with  quiet  pride,  that  his  wind 

222 


SNOW-BLIND 

and  his  strength  were  both  becoming  something  in- 
credible, compared  to  boys  that  he  knew  back  East. 
He  had  hardly  realized  that  a  man  could  be  so  strong, 
could  do  the  things  that  he  had  done  and  get  through 
it,  somehow.  But  these  tall,  iron-limbed  mountain 
men  had  showed  him  what  a  man,  living  in  the  open, 
and  feeding  daily  on  the  strong,  wild  meat  of  the 
mountains,  could  grow  to  in  strength  and  stature. 

A  distant  Whoopee!  attracted  his  attention.  Sid 
yelled  back,  and  after  a  time  a  crack  in  the  timber 
told  him  of  Big  John,  shuffling  along  on  his  long 
webs. 

"  Whar'n  blue  blazes  hev  ye  bin,  stranger  ?  "  called 
his  rollicking  voice.  "  Thought  ye'd  med  up  yer 
mind  ter  stay  out  thar  an'  chaw  mountin  mutton  till 
it  give  out  on  ye!  "  he  yelled,  coming  up  swiftly. 

"  Yep.  Et  her  all  but  the  legs ! "  laughed  Sid. 
"  Brought  'em  in  for  you  fellows,  knowin'  that  you 
would  be  hungry,"  he  bantered,  as  he  laughed  and 
struggled  on  with  his  toboggan. 

"  Say !  —  what's  thet  ye  got  over  yer  eyes  ?  " 
called  Big  John,  as  he  shuffled  up.  "  Oh,  ye  pore 
critter!  —  hed  a  leetle  tetch  o'  snow  eye,  hed  ye? 
Hyar  —  gimme  thet  toboggan !  " 

He  grabbed  the  'thong,  with  rough  tenderness,  as 
223 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

he  grasped  Sid's  hand  warmly.  "  Say,  kid,  who 
Tarned  ye  how  ter  make  a  snow  mask  ?  "  he  inquired 
"  I  seen  th'  Flathead  Injuns  wearin'  things  like  thet, 
only  they  was  birch  bark.  Cute  trick,  son." 

"Oh,  I've  been  sick  as  a  dog,  John,"  said  Sid, 
collapsing  on  the  toboggan  wearily.  "  Took  me  all 
of  a  sudden,  down  there  in  the  basin,  and  I  had  to 
den  up  and  put  in  the  night  at  the  lob  stick.  I  was 
blind  as  a  bat  last  night." 

"  Shore  ye  was!  "  cried  Big  John  sympathetically. 
"  'S  all  my  fault !  Durn  me,  anyhow,  f er  an  ole 
fool!  With  this  yere  bright  sun,  I  oughtta  told  ye 
'bout  them  blue  glasses  o'  yourn  afore  ye  sot  off. 
You  set  right  thar  on  the  sladge,  Sid,  an*  I'll  haul 
ye." 

Unmindful  of  Sid's  protests,  he  pushed  him  on 
the  toboggan  and  set  off  down  the  mountain.  Two 
hours  later  they  slid  down  a  long  hollow,  right  into 
camp,  where  the  green  wedge  of  the  pup  tent  showed, 
snugly  ensconced  under  some  spruces. 

"  Hyar's  th'  critter!  "  cackled  Big  John,  as  Scotty 
came  out  to  greet  them.  "  Ain't  he  reel  handsome, 
though,  in  them  hide  specticles !  " 

Scotty  burst  into  a  shout  of  laughter  at  Sid's  odd 
nose-gear,  but  it  soon  subsided  into  sympathy  as  the 

224 


SNOW-BLIND 

boy  related  the  dangerous  experience  he  had  been 
through. 

"  I  tell  ye,  boys,"  burst  out  Big  John,  spitting  on 
the  camp  stove,  "  onless  I  watches  ye  like  a  nurse, 
you,  Sid,  are  goin'  ter  cheat  thet  halter  yit ;  and  you, 
Scotty,  '11  dream  thet  fool  haid  of  yourn  down  into 
a  glacier  crack,  I'm  settin'  here  to  tell  ye  I  '* 


CHAPTER   XIV 
OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 

ON  the  next  day  they  pushed  over  the  Divide. 
It  did  not  turn  out  so  hard  as  Sid  antici- 
pated. Scotty  walked  all  day,  and  even 
helped  pull  up  the  steep  places  with  his  free  arm. 
They  were  over  before  either  of  the  boys  realized  it. 

"Why,  John,  where's  Seven  Mile  Spring?  And 
where  are  all  those  terrific  slopes  we  came  down? 
And  —  where's  Leaping  Rock,  where  we  had  to  pull 
the  horses  over  a  precipice  ?  "  demanded  Sid,  mysti- 
fied. 

"  Lord  love  ye,  son,  we've  been  goin'  along  seven 
miles  up  in  the  air  above  them  places,  all  the  time," 
whooped  Big  John.  "  Don't  ye  know,  we  started 
mighty  near  timber  line,  from  thet  camp  in  the  elk 
park,  an'  ye've  hit  the  Big  Hump  from  over  the 
brisket-like?  Ye  oughtta  seen  me,  drivin'  them 
hosses  and  packin'  all  the  grub  and  the  big  rag  house 
too,  up  from  Big  River,  ef  ye  want  ter  know  what 
reel  work  is !  " 

They  pushed  on,  all  three  engrossed  in  the  work 
226 


OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 

of  managing  the  toboggan  down  the  ravines  of 
Big  Badger. 

"  Thar,  boys  —  fill  yer  licenses !  "  called  Big  John 
suddenly,  as  the  toboggan  skidded  down  a  steep  bank 
along  Big  Badger.  "  Ye  ain't  neither  of  ye  got  a 
billy  yet." 

The  boys  followed  his  pointing  finger,  and  espied 
a  flock  of  goats,  up  on  the  snowy  flank  of  a  peak 
across  the  valley.  The  rifles  were  drawn  from  their 
cases,  and  the  long  stalk  across  the  valley  began. 
Up  through  the  timber  they  climbed,  and  soon  the 
going  became  more  open,  with  only  the  little  sticks  of 
gnarly  gray  pines  twisting  out  in  the  snow.  High 
precipices  frowned  on  every  hand;  somewhere,  far 
above,  the  mountain  goats  were  feeding. 

With  Big  John  pointing  out  chimneys  and 
"  draws,"  they  swarmed  up  the  bare,  rocky  cliffs,  the 
vistas  getting  higher  and  more  appalling  at  every 
advance.  Then,  at  a  low  "  Hist!  "  from  Big  John, 
they  stopped  to  spy  out  the  situation.  Out  on  a 
jagged  peak  stood  a  watchful  old  billy,  motionless 
as  a  white  statue,  his  glistening  black  horns  like 
curved,  pointed  spikes  standing  up  in  the  blue. 

"  Thet  ole  boy  kin  see  everything  in  five  miles," 
whispered  Big  John,  "  an'  thar's  only  one  way  we 

227 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

kin  git  in  a  shot.     You  boys  ever  dumb  a  chimbly  ?  " 

They  admitted  that  they  hadn't,  so  far,  in  their 
experiences. 

"Waal< — hyar's  yore  chanct  to  qualify!  See 
them  two  buttes,  stickin'  up  with  a  narrer  cleft  in 
between?  We'll  jest  swarm  up  thet,  outer  sight  of 
Old  Chinwhiskers,  thar  —  an'  then  we  kin  git  him, — 
an'  his  aunt  and  cousins  too !  " 

They  made  a  detour  out  of  sight,  and,  coming  at 
the  cleft  from  the  left  side,  paused  before  it.  The 
walls  of  the  cliff  sloped  down  sharply  to  the  timber 
far  below,  and  the  cleft  rose  perpendicularly  above. 
It  was  sure  death  for  a  man  to  slip,  up  in  there,  but 
with  his  legs  straddled  apart  and  toes  in  crevices  in 
the  cleft,  Big  John  mounted  steadily,  the  boys  fol- 
lowing, scared  to  death  and  not  daring  to  look  below, 
but  determined  not  to  show  it. 

"  Reg'ler  collidge  football  skrimmidge  ef  I  draps 
out'n  hyar,"  snickered  Big  John,  as  a  bit  of  slide 
rock  gave  way  under  his  toe  and  he  fell  heavily  with 
his  shoulder  against  the  opposite  side  of  the  cleft. 
The  boys  braced  themselves  and  said  nothing.  Sid 
was  wondering,  if  those  ledges  of  loose  shale  rock 
under  Big  John's  toes  should  give  way,  whether  he 
could  ever  sustain  the  fall  of  that  huge  weight  above 

228 


OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 

him.  Presently  Big  John  stopped  climbing  and 
peered  over  the  top. 

"  Bunch  of  boulders  right  ahead, "  he  announced. 
"  You  boys  come  on  up  out'n  thet  thar  fat  man's 
misery,  an'  we'll  do  a  leetle  peekin'  round." 

He  wormed  himself  over  the  top  and  the  boys  fol- 
lowed. They  lay  flat  on  their  bellies  in  deep  snow, 
with  the  backs  of  round  boulders  rising  above  them. 
Big  John  took  off  his  Stetson  and  wadded  some 
snow  on  his  black  hair. 

"  Now  fer  a  look-see,"  he  grunted.  He  raised 
his  head,  ever  so  slowly,  and  watched  a  while. 

"  The  big  'un's  right  below  us,  and  the  rest  are 
feedin'  along  the  ledge.  You  boys  git  yore  rifles 
ready,  an'  then  we'll  give  'em  both  barrels.  Pick 
yore  annimiles,  and  shoot  fast !  Now !  —  Ready !  " 

They  rose,  with  ready  rifles,  and  the  goat  flock 
humped  off,  with  their  slow,  stupid  lope.  They  all 
went  uphill,  up  the  most  impossible  cliffs  that  Sid  had 
ever  looked  at.  He  picked  the  big  billy  and  knocked 
him  over  with  a  single  shot  with  the  .35,  while  Scotty 
set  fire  to  another  one,  the  stunning  whip  of  his 
Army  .30  crashing  in  their  ears. 

"  Stop  'em!  Stop  'em!  "  yelled  Big  John,  plant- 
ing a  shot  in  the  flank  of  Scotty's  goat.  Sid  was 

229 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

now  firing  fast  at  the  big  billy,  who  was  bent  on 
precipitating  himself  over  the  cliff.  The  animal 
crawled  on,  with  deliberate  intention;  he  would  not 
have  stopped  short  of  a  tumble,  to  unheard-of  depths 
down  the  slope,  if  the  last  cartridge  from  the  .35 
had  not  blown  him  clear  off  his  feet.  He  rolled 
down  to  a  little  ledge  and  lay  still,  while  Scotty's  goat 
crumpled  up,  fell  back  with  pawing  feet,  and  kicked 
out  his  last  in  the  lap  of  a  small  hollow  in  the  rocks. 

"Oughtta  hev  brought  the  toboggin  tump  line, 
fer  this-yer  huntin' !  "  complained  Big  John.  "  We'll 
hev  a  fine  party,  gittin'  down  to  thet  billy  of  yourn, 
Sid." 

They  peered  over  the  ledge.  It  was  all  of  eight 
feet  down  to  him,  and  no  place  to  stand  when  you 
got  there,  but  the  boy  was  eager  to  try  it. 

"  Ketch  aholt  of  my  hands,  son,  an'  I'll  lower  ye," 
said  Big  John.  He  dropped  the  boy  down  on  the 
ledge,  where  he  immediately  set  to  work  with  his 
skinning  knife.  Then  the  cowman  and  Scotty  gave 
their  attention  to  the  other  goat.  Turning  him 
over,  Scotty  drew  his  hunting  knife. 

"  More  meat !  "  he  exclaimed,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders whimsically.  "  We  got  more  on  the  toboggan, 
now,  than  we  can  haul." 

230 


OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 

Big  John  snorted.  "Ever  et  any  goat?"  he  in- 
quired sardonically. 

"No.  I  suppose  it's  as  good  as  any,  isn't  it?" 
asked  the  boy. 

"  Yaas,  in  a  way  —  fer  a  half -starved  Cheyenne, 
mebbe,"  retorted  the  cowman  laughingly.  "  One  of 
the  sports  thet  hunted  with  me  last  season,  he  give  a 
big  dinner  down  ter  Denver,  ter  a  campin'-out  club, 
with  his  billy  meat  as  the  big  feed  —  I  ain't  heard 
nawthin'  much  about  thet  dinner  sence ! "  he 
chuckled. 

"  Bad  as  that?  "  smiled  the  lad,  sensing  more  of 
the  story.  "  Can't  you  make  it  tender  by  cooking  it 
a  good  while  ?  " 

"  Yaas.  I'll  tell  ye  th'  recipetee :  Fust  ye  heat  th' 
camp  ax,  red  hot  —  see?  Then  ye  take  the  ax  and 
the  goat  meat,  an'  bile  'em  together  in  the  kittle  fer 
two  days,"  went  on  Big  John  impressively. 

"  Well  —  what  then?  "  inquired  Scotty,  grinning. 

"  Waal  —  then  ye  take  out  the  meat  an'  the  ax, 
throw  away  the  meat  and  eat  the  ax- — see?"  he 
guffawed. 

The  boy  laughed.    "  Tough,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  bet  y're  feet !  It's  tougher'n  good  ol'  cow- 
hide boot!  My  dawgs  et  some  of  thet  goat  meat 

23J 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

oncet;  an'  by  the  time  they  got  through  chawin' 
they  was  too  tired  to  swaller  it !  " 

A  hail  from  Sid  brought  them  to  the  ledge.  He 
needed  help  to  turn  his  goat  over,  and  so  Scotty 
was  let  down,  as  Big  John  was  afraid  that  the  lad 
could  not  pull  him  up  if  he  himself  tried  it.  Be- 
tween the  two  of  them,  they  finally  managed  to  get 
the  shaggy,  white  hide  peeled  off,  with  many  direc- 
tions from  Big  John  and  a  couple  of  skinning  spuds, 
cut  from  odd  survivors  of  the  tree  population  above 
timber  line,  and  slid  down  to  them  by  the  cowman. 
The  other  goat  was  a  far  easier  job,  and  they  soon 
had  its  pelt  off,  after  the  first  goat  had  been  dis- 
posed of  and  the  boys  hauled  up  from  the  ledge 
again. 

Tying  up  the  bundles  with  their  own  leg  skins, 
they  were  dropped  down  the  chimney,  to  roll  far 
down  the  slopes  to  timber  line,  Then,  with  Big 
John  leading,  the  perilous  climb  down  was  begun. 
It  was  far  more  difficult  and  dangerous  than  the 
climb  up,  for  it  was  impossible  to  pick  out  foot  crev- 
ices below.  By  mid-afternoon  they  had  gotten  back 
to  the  toboggan  again  —  with  their  licenses  filled 
and  no  more  worlds  to  conquer ! 

With  the  two  skins  piled  on  top  of  the  load,  and 
232 


OVER  THE  BIG  HUMP 

headed  down  Big  Badger  valley,  the  toboggan 
slipped  and  slid  rapidly,  having  to  be  held  back  by 
all  three  during  much  of  the  time,  and  finally  they 
came  out  of  Big  Badger  that  night,  near  the  Lewis  & 
Clark  ranger's  cabin. 

"  He  went  in  over  the  Divide  last  week  to  help 
Jim  Hoge  take  keer  of  them  elk-toothers,"  ex- 
plained Big  John.  "  They  probably  took  'em  out, 
down  Java  way,  to  the  rails,  so  we'll  jist  bunk  in 
his  cabin  to-night  an'  be  comfortable.  The  Gov'- 
mint's  cabin  is  allus  free  to  all  good  sports ;  —  them 
who  knows  enough  to  leave  the  next  fire  ready  to 
kindle  up,  and  don't  hog  all  the  grub." 

The  attractions  of  a  real  log  house  and  a  roaring 
fire  on  the  hearth  proved  too  much  for  just  one  day's 
stop,  so  they  rested  up  here  still  another  day,  while 
the  sun  came  out  again  and  a  big  thaw  started  in. 
Then  they  pushed  on  up  the  slopes  of  the  Little  Di- 
vide,—  in  a  howling  blizzard  again,  so  sudden  are 
the  changes  of  weather  in  the  mountains, — r  and  by 
mid-afternoon  they  were  skidding  down  the  eastern 
slopes,  with  the  vast  prairies  of  the  Blackfoot  Reser- 
vation spread  out  below  them,  brown  and  sunlit,  out 
beyond  the  line  of  snowfall.  Back  up  in  the  Rockies 
they  were  still  having  a  roaring  old  time  of  it,  with 

233 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

gusts  of  the  blizzard  shooting  out  behind  them 
through  the  passes,  and  scurries  of  snow  chasing 
past  them  out  to  the  prairies. 

Below  them,  in  the  far  distance,  lay  the  tiny  black 
squares  of  the  log  cabins  on  Frozen  Dog  ranch,  with 
the  fences  of  corral  and  outbuildings  outlined  in  ir- 
regular, fairy  pencilings  across  the  snow. 

Sid  turned  and  faced  back  toward  the  giant, 
frowning  ramparts  of  the  Rockies. 

"Gbod-by,  old  fellows!"  he  shouted.  "  Thun- 
der-a-tion  —  but  you  made  a  man  of  me !  It's  a  he- 
man's  country,  eh,  Scotty?" 

"  You  bet ! "  the  red-haired  boy  responded,  with 
glittering  eyes.  "Three  weeks  more  of  good  sport 
and  horse  wrangling  at  the  ranch  —  and  I'm  ready 
to  go  back  East  and  clean  up  the  whole  bunch  at 
school!" 

"  Waal ;  —  ye  both  was  doggone  —  plumb  ornery, 
I'm  thinkin' ! "  grinned  Big  John  sardonically,  tak- 
ing off  his  snowshoes.  "  We  got  good  old  prairie 
bunch  grass  underfoot  now,  boys.  Hip !  Le's  go !  " 


CHAPTER   XV 
HOME  AGAIN 

THEY  swung  into  the  ranch,  tugging  the  to- 
boggan over  the  light  drifts  of  snow.  Vo- 
ciferous welcomes  from  Big  John's  Aire- 
dales and  hounds  greeted  them,  and  soon  the  tall, 
silent  Indian  put  in  his  appearance,  grinning 
broadly. 

"  Waal,  Joe  —  I  brought  'em  back  — •  with  the 
bark  on ! "  crowed  Big  John.  "  Them  two  roos- 
ters'll  tackle  most  anything  now !  Got  somepin'  ter 
eat?" 

"  Roas'  duck ; —  wil*  rice ;  —  plainty  taters  in 
keetly!"  grinned  the  redskin.  "All  heap  ready! 
Me  see  you  up  on  mountain." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  main  building,  and  soon  they 
set  down  to  a  monumental  feed.  An  hour  later  the 
two  boys  went  off  to  the  bunk  house. 

"  Get  I  I  could  sleep  a  week !  "  yawned  Sid,  rub- 
bing his  eyes.  "  Feels  good  to  see  a  real  bed  again 
—  and  —  no  snow !  " 

He  tumbled  in,  ripped  off  his  outer  clothing  and 
pitched  on  the  bunk.  In  five  minutes  he  was  fast 

235 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

asleep,  where  Scotty  soon  joined  him.  They  slept 
for  twenty-four  hours,  rising  at  the  end  of  that  time 
to  feed  heavily  and  sleep  again.  The  fatigues  of 
the  past  three  weeks  were  being  repaired  by  old 
Mother  Nature  —  and  she  was  busy ! 

Then  came  a  feeling  of  lazy  lethargy,  when  it  was 
good  to  be  up  and  to  amuse  one's  self  with  the  utter- 
most trifles.  It  lasted  three  days,  during  which  time 
the  life  at  the  ranch  went  on  its  quiet,  unruffled  way. 
Then  they  began  to  look  around  for  more  adventures 
again. 

"  Shore,  you  boys  is  hevin'  a  whale  of  a  time,  get- 
tin'  over  it !  "  grinned  Big  John,  as  they  reported  for 
duty  with  the  horse  herd. 

"  Gee  I  I  hate  to  go  back  to  school ! "  yawned 
Sid.  "  After  all  this,  it'll  seem  like  kid  play !  Can't 
I  go  varmint  hunting  with  you  this  winter,  John  ?  " 

"  Nope.  They's  more  ser'ous  business  afoot  than 
varmint  huntin'  this  winter,  boys.  Hev  ye  seen  the 
news  ?  Old  Uncle  Sammy's  bucklin'  on  his  six-guns, 
I'm  settin'  here  to  tell  ye!  " 

"What!  More  trouble  with  Mexico?"  ex- 
claimed both  boys  in  a  breath. 

"  Nope ;  wuss'n  thet !  Pershing's  comin'  home  — 
an'  we're  goin'  ter  mix  it  with  Germany,  if  these 

236 


HOME  AGAIN 

yer  doin's  keeps  up !  They've  sunk  another  of  our 
boats;  and  old  Unkle  Samuel  says  he  ain't  goin'  to 
stand  it  much  longer.  No  varmint  huntin'  fer  this 
hoss-wr angler,  this  year,  son !  " 

"  Are  you  going,  Big  John?  " 

"  Shore !  Ain't  never  stayed  out'n  no  man's  ruc- 
tion yit ! "  declared  the  huge  cowman  energetically. 
"Yore  pappy'll  be  in  it,  too,  ef  I  know  him,  Sid. 
They's  big  doin's  comin'." 

"Cracky!  We'll  be  in  it,  too!  — won't  we, 
Scotty  ?  "  exclaimed  Sid,  his  eyes  glowing  with  the 
zest  of  adventure. 

"  I'll  go,  if  I  have  to  be  drummer  boy !  "  averred 
the  latter  eagerly. 

"  Say,  Sid,  the  Injuns  want  you  fer  a  party,  over 
in  the  big  tepee  to-night,"  announced  Big  John. 
"  Thet's  what  I  was  lookin'  ye  up  fer.  You're 
Henoga's  boy  to  them,  don't  never  fergit  thet,  son." 

That  afternoon,  under  the  guidance  of  tall  Joe, 
the  two  boys  galloped  out  of  the  corral  and  across 
the  ridges  and  hills  of  the  prairie.  The  snow  was 
all  gone,  and  the  brown  grass  made  the  wild,  open 
sweeps  of  this  enchanted  country  one  panorama  of 
prairie  loveliness,  with  strings  of  wild  ducks  flying 
across  it  from  pond  to  pond,  and  sharp-tailed  grouse 

237 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

springing  up  before  them  from  the  thistly  meadows. 
Mile  after  mile  of  it  they  rode,  always  eastward, 
until  by  evening  they  came  in  sight  of  a  collection  of 
tepees,  camped  on  a -flat  in  a  wide  bend  of  Milk  River. 
Scouts  met  them  on  the  brink,  just  as  in  the  old  In- 
dian warfare  days,  and  a  turmoil  of  barking  dogs 
and  squealing  children  greeted  them  as  they  reined 
up  their  ponies  at  the  head  of  the  trail. 

A  knot  of  old  warriors,  on  horseback,  with  great, 
feathered  war  bonnets  streaming  out  behind,  rode 
slowly  to  meet  them.  Sid  thrilled,  as  he  realized 
that  he  was  looking,  probably  for  the  last  time,  on 
old  Indian  customs  and  ceremonial  dress  that  will 
soon  pass  away  forever. 

He  and  Scotty  followed  the  guide  slowly  down 
the  trail  and  forded  the  stream.  A  tall  chief  rode 
out  to  meet  him. 

"Henoga's  boy?  — How?"  he  greeted.  "Me 
Long  Lance,  chief  of  the  Milk  River  Blackfoot. 
My  son  is  very  welcome.'* 

Sid  shook  hands,  hardly  knowing  what  to  say. 
He  spied  his  old  friend,  Big  Spring,  in  the  group, 
scarcely  recognizable  in  his  war  paint  and  feathers, 
and  smiled  over  to  him.  Then  he  introduced  Scotty, 
and  there  was  a  general  grunt  of  satisfaction,  fcr 

238 


HOME  AGAIN 

the  Indians  seemed  to  know  all  about  the  doctor, 
too. 

"Great  medicine  man!"  grinned  Long  Lance, 
smiling  broadly  under  his  long,  hooked  nose.  "  Him 
make  my  wife  well,  one  time.  She  verrie  seek. 
Boy,  heap  welcome !  " 

They  led  the  way  to  the  big  tepee,  a  couple  of 
young  braves,  about  Sid's  age,  taking  their  ponies. 
The  boys  followed  the  chief  and  his  party  inside,  and 
looked  about  them  curiously.  It  was  lined  with 
stick  beds,  each  with  its  ornamented  back  of  willow 
wands  on  stakes,  driven  slantwise  into  the  sod. 
Against  these  the  chiefs  took  their  places,  while  the 
rest  of  the  tepee  was  soon  crowded  with  young 
braves,  squatting  in  a  semicircle  before  their  elders. 

An  old  medicine  man  produced  a  great  peace  pipe, 
and  Long  Lance  lit  it,  blowing  the  smoke  to  the  four 
winds,  to  the  Great  Spirit  above,  and  to  Mother 
Earth  below. 

"The  Council  of  the  Blackfoot  is  opened/'  he 
declared  solemnly,  as  the  pipe  went  round.  "  My 
brothers,  the  son  of  Henoga  is  with  us." 

A  chorus  of  "  Ughs !  "  went  around  the  circle, 
while  the  young  bucks  looked  at  Sid  admiringly. 

"  Soon  he  goes  back  across  the  iron  trail,"  the 
239 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

chief  went  on ;  "  is  it  not  the  wish  of  the  Council 
that  he  carry  a  message  to  Henoga  ?  " 

Another  chorus  of  "  Ughs !  "  greeted  his  question. 

"  We  hear  that  the  honor  of  our  country  is 
touched,"  continued  Long  Lance.  Sid  jumped,  to 
hear  an  Indian  refer  to  the  vast  continent  wrested 
from  his  race  by  the  white  men  referred  to  as  "  our 
country. "  "If  the  President  at  Washington  so  de- 
cides, it  shall  be  war  between  us  and  the  white  men 
across  the  sea.  Shall  it  be  said  that  my  young  men 
did  not  take  the  war  path?"  thundered  the  chief, 
pausing  for  effect. 

A  dozen  young  bucks  sprang  to  their  feet  with 
eager  gestures. 

Long  Lance  waved  them  down,  and  went  on: 
"  Henoga  is  a  Blackfoot.  His  son  shall  be  a  Black- 
foot,  too.  Will  my  son  step  forward  and  bare  his 
arm  ?  "  he  asked  courteously,  turning  to  where  Sid 
sat  watching  the  ceremonies. 

Sid  got  up  and  rolled  up  his  flannel  shirt.  His 
clean,  bare,  athletic  arm  showed,  graceful  and  boy- 
ish, but  with  the  hard  lines  of  the  muscles  showing 
under  the  smooth  skin.  He  held  it  out  sikntly,  as 
an  old  medicine  man  arose  and  made  a  deep  cut  in 
it  with  a  ceremonial  knife.  The  blood  spurted  out, 

240 


HOME  AGAIN 

as  he  turned  and  made  the  same  cut  in  Long  Lance's 
arm,  and  then  joined  the  two,  so  that  the  blood  of 
red  and  white  mingled.  Then  Long  Lance  took  a 
drop  of  his  own,  and  with  his  finger-tip  made  a  spot 
on  Sid's  forehead. 

"  Henoga's  son,  you  are  adopted  into  the  nation 
of  the  Blackfoot !  "  he  declared.  "  I  name  you  Ish- 
awey-gustika,  '  Killer  of  the  Ring-Necked  Grizzly.' 
Come  back  to  us,  my  son,  when  your  war  paths  are 
done,  and  you  may  win  a  yet  more  honorable  name. 
I  have  finished." 

They  sat  down  amid  a  buzz  of  congratulations. 
Sid  noted  with  surprise  that  the  Blackfoot  crowded 
around  to  shake  his  hand  like  white  people,  a  custom 
no  doubt  imposed  by  their  constant  association  with 
the  whites. 

Then  Long  Lance  rose  to  his  feet  again,  and 
stretched  out  his  arm  for  silence.  He  was  a  mag- 
nificent, commanding  figure,  and  the  long  fringes 
from  his  buckskin  shirt  gave  him  an  air  almost  sacer- 
dotal. 

"  The  message  to  Henoga,  my  brothers,"  he  re- 
minded them.  "  My  old  men  and  my  warriors  will 
ride  with  me  out  on  the  prairie." 

Every  one  poured  out  of  the  tepee,  and  there  was 
241 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

a  confusion  of  swift  (figures  as  ponies  were  snatched 
from  the  Indian  boys  who  were  holding  them,  and 
a  procession  formed.  Long  Lance  led  the  way. 
When  well  out  on  the  prairie,  with  the  golden  sun- 
light setting  in  the  west,  lighting  up  his  tall  figure, 
glowing  on  the  gleaming  feathers  of  his  head  dress, 
and  the  white  flanks  of  his  pony  —  he  stopped,  and 
began  a  low  war  song.  The  band  reined  up,  watch- 
ing him.  The  song  had  the  plaintive  mystery  of 
Indian  melody  in  it,  but  its  tones  told  even  Sid  that 
it  was  a  dedication  of  some  sort.  The  chief  ended 
his  chant,  and,  digging  into  the  bosom  of  his  buck- 
skin shirt,  he  drew  forth  the  blazing  red  and  white 
stripes  and  white  stars  on  a  blue  field  —  of  Old 
Glory !  Holding  the  flag  out,  draped  across  his  out- 
stretched arms,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  clouds  and 
began  a  second  chant.  The  others  all  stretched  out 
their  arms,  too,  and  joined  in  his  song.  Sid  could 
never  forget  that  scene;  that  wild  band  of  free, 
prairie  horsemen,  dedicating  their  lives  and  their 
loyalty  to  the  land  that  they  had  at  last  adopted  as 
their  own,  sharing  it  finally  with  the  dominant 
whites.  The  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes,  as  he  realized 
all  that  it  meant.  Then  both  he  and  Scotty  went  to 
a  rigid  salute,  as  the  chief  held  Old  Glory  aloft.  His 

242 


HOME  AGAIN 

song  ended  with  a  gesture  of  utter  devotion,  and  the 
white  boys  dropped  their  hands  to  their  sides.  The 
ceremony  was  over. 

"  This  is  the  message  that  my  son  will  carry  to 
Henoga,"  said  the  chief  simply,  as  he  wheeled  his 
pony  and  led  the  cavalcade  back  to  the  lodges. 

They  rode  in,  to  find  a  great  feast  set  out,  and 
the  boys  devoured  wild  game  meat,  wild  rice  in  great 
wooden  bowls,  and  soft,  succulent  prairie  potatoes 
and  wild  onions  until  even  they  had  to  call  a  halt. 
But  the  Indians  had  no  idea  of  stopping,  so  long 
as  there  was  anything  left  in  the  kettle  to  prod  for. 
The  boys  talked  a  while  with  Long  Lance,  and  then 
took  their  departure,  riding  out  on  the  prairie  with 
the  Indian  guide. 

That  was  the  last  the  boys  saw  of  the  Black  foot, 
but  they  carried  away  sober  memories  with  them. 
They  little  could  foresee  the  famine  that  was  later  to 
overtake  them,  when  the  Government  took  all  their 
horses  for  war  purposes,  and  a  great  hardship  be- 
fell the  whole  nation. 

"  That  was  a  mighty  fine  thing,  Scotty ;  —  that  old 
chief  dedicating  his  tribe  and  all  his  young  men  to 
help  us  fight  —  if  there  is  to  be  war  with  the  Huns. 
Do  we  stay  out  while  people  who  have  suffered  as 

243 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

they  have  go  to  war  for  us  ?  "  said  Sid.  "  It  showed 
me  what  I'm  going  to  do  about  it,  you  bet ! " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Sid  ?  I'm  with 
you  —  don't  forget  that,"  returned  Scotty. 

"  I'm  going  to  enlist  in  the  Regulars,  if  father  will 
let  me,"  declared  Sid.  "  I'm  not  too  young,  and, 
if  there's  going  to  be  anything,  the  Regulars  will  be 
in  the  thick  of  it!  No  commissions,  and  no  desk 
jobs  for  mine !  " 

"  Me  too !  "  exclaimed  Scotty.  "  You  can't  beat 
the  school  of  the  Army !  Gee, —  I  envy  you  your 
father,  Sid!" 

"  Well,  the  doctoral  get  in  somewhere,  too,  don't 
you  worry!  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  sees  France 
before  any  of  us !  " 

The  boys  stayed  another  week  at  the  ranch,  hunt- 
ing and  fishing  and  helping  Big  John  with  the  horses, 
but  never  was  man  more  eagerly  awaited  than  the 
prairie  rider,  with  his  mail  bag  full  of  last  week's 
newspapers.  Here,  on  this  lonely  ranch,  detached 
from  the  small  trivialities  that  fretted  the  world, 
they  could  see  the  big  storm  coming  more  clearly 
than  their  friends  of  school  could  possibly  do.  The 
country  was  drifting  on,  unmindful  of  the  great 
movement, —  of  what  such  things  as  the  German 

244 


HOME  AGAIN 

proclamation  of  an  unlimited  submarine  warfare,— 
or  the  sinking  of  American  ships,  must  mean.  Never 
^before  had  any  Power  dared  do  such  things ! 

But  Big  John,  the  simple  cowman,  saw  it ;  and  his 
preparations  to  leave  the  ranch  for  the  winter  went 
on  steadily. 

"  She's  shore  a-comin',  boys !  I'm  ridin'  in  to  the 
Park  with  you;  an'  then  I  guess  I'll  lope  up  ter 
Billin's  an'  see  about  gittin'  inter  the  Reg'lers. 
Mought  as  well  do  it  now." 

"  Maybe  we'll  meet  you  there,"  ventured  Sid  slyly. 

"Whar?  —  Billin's?  — You  ain't  no  call  ter  go 
to  Billin's,"  said  Big  John,  surprised.  "  What  d'ye 
mean?" 

"  In  the  Regulars,  John.  Scotty  and  I  are  going 
to  enlist,  if  there's  a  row." 

"Waal,  I'll  be  — ! "  exploded  the  big  cowman. 
"Bully  fer  ye!  — Thet's  what  I  think  of  it!"  he 
guffawed,  giving  them  each  a  huge  paw. 

Early  on  the  last  day  they  packed  the  cayuses  for 
the  last  time,  and  set  off  along  the  prairie  trail  to 
the  Park  station.  They  got  there  late  in  the  after- 
noon, but  they  still  had  plenty  of  time,  as  the  Limited 
was  reported  eight  hours  late,  due  to  a  snow  slide  up 
in  the  mountains.  It  would  be  at  least  that  long 

245 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

before  she  could  be  dug  out.  They  went  into  the 
station,  and  camped  out  on  the  benches,  along  with 
Indians,  railroad  workers  and  lumbermen,  all 
brought  there  by  the  heat  of  its  great  red-bellied 
stove.  At  three  in  the  morning,  Big  John  helped 
them  aboard  and  wrung  their  hands. 

"  I'm  sending  ye  back  to  the  major  and  the  doc  all 
O.  K.  boys,"  he  shouted  up  from  the  platform. 
"  Tell  'em  my  best  regards !  Good-by  —  an'  God 
bless  ye!  Tell  the  major  I've  gone  ter  Billin's. 
He'll  know!" 

And  the  train  started,  leaving  him  waving  at  them 
from  the  platform. 

"  There's  one  of  God's  own  gentlemen,  Scotty !  " 
whispered  Sid,  wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes. 
"  Never  a  word,  all  through,  on  what  a  care  we  must 
have  been  to  him;  —  always  gay  and  facetious, — 
and  always  right  there  in  a  tight  place !  I  wouldn't 
like  to  be  a  Hun  when  he  gets  over  to  France !  " 

But  the  war  fever  died  down  in  them  as  the  three 
days'  ride  across  the  continent  took  them  home. 
The  country  seemed  its  old,  quiet  self,  and,  aside 
from  the  ominous  news  in  the  papers,  there  was  no 
evidence  of  the  great  forces  that  were  moving  on 
underneath.  Only  the  trainloads  of  state  guards- 

246 


HOME  AGAIN 

men,  on  their  way  back  from  Mexico  that  they 
passed  at  Chicago,  gave  any  hint  of  the  silent  prepa- 
rations that  were  being  made. 

But,  when  they  ran  past  the  familiar  outskirts  of 
their  home  town,  and  the  train  slowed  up  at  the 
platform,  the  first  thing  that  Sid  spied  was  his 
father,  waiting  for  him  on  the  platform, —  in  uni- 
form! 

It  thrilled  him,  and  Scotty  sighed  with  envy. 
"Wasn't  it  great,  to  have  a  soldier  for  a  father  —  with 
a  big  war  coming  on!  He  wished  that  his  father 
too,  the  good  old  doctor,  could  wear  that  consecrated 
Service  garb  also !  And  then  he  jumped  and  gasped 
with  excitement!  There  was  the  tall  form  of  the 
doctor,  stalking  around  in  neat  olive-drab  officer's 
clothes,  and  on  his  high,  close  collar  and  olive  shoul- 
der straps  were  the  silver  leaf  of  a  lieutenant  colonel, 
and  the  twined  serpents  of  the  Medical  Corps! 

The  boys  tumbled  down  the  car  steps  in  an  ecstasy 
of  delight,  and  nearly  smothered  their  respective 
mothers,  who  were,  of  course,  first.  Then  Sid 
turned  to  wring  his  father's  hand. 

"  Gorry !  —  A  Colonel !  "  he  gasped,  catching 
sight  of  the  silver  eagle  on  his  father's  broad  shoul- 
ders. "  Congratulations,  father !  " 

247 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

"Thanks,  son.  Yes;  I'm  on  active  duty  again. 
Go  to  Washington  to-morrow.  Doctor  Henderson 
and  I  have  been  busy  since  we  saw  you  last.  Have 
a  good  trip?" 

"  Did  we !  "  shouted  the  boys.  "  Wait  till  you  see 
the  trophies ! " 

"  Did  you, —  of  course  you  got  the  Ring-Necked 
old  boar  —  your  letters  told  me  that.  How's  Big 
John?" 

"Fine!  He's  gone  to  Billings,  to  enlist,  father; 
told  me  to  be  sure  and  tell  you  that.  Is  there  going 
to  be  a  big  war  ?  "  the  boy  inquired  wistfully. 

"  Looks  that  way  —  with  the  Navy  clearing  decks 
and  calling  out  the  Fleet  Reserve  and  the  Naval 
Militia,"  said  the  major  hurriedly.  "  Mustn't  talk 
about  that,  on  this  public  platform,  though,  son. 
Come  on  up  to  the  house." 

That  night,  as  the  logs  burnt  low  in  the  smoky  den, 
and  the  elders  listened  to  the  recital  of  all  the  boys' 
adventures  in  the  mountains,  with  the  smoke  curling 
reminiscently  up  from  their  pipes,  they  popped  the 
big  question  to  their  fathers. 

"  We  want  to  enlist  in  the  Regulars,  dad,  if  there's 
going  to  be  war  —  may  we  ?  "  asked  Sid,  in  a  shak- 
ing voice. 

248 


HOME  AGAIN 

"And  why,  son?"  rumbled  the  Colonel's  deep 
voice,  as  he  puffed  on  silently. 

Sid  gave  him  Long  Lance's  message,  picturing  it 
as  dramatically  as  he  could.  "  School's  all  right, 
dad  —  but  this  is  no  time  for  educating  yourself  — 
when  the  country  needs  every  man  in  the  Regulars/' 
concluded  the  boy  earnestly.  "  That's  how  I  felt 
when  Long  Lance  lifted  the  Flag  and  dedicated  his 
little  band  of  braves  to  a  country  that  had  treated 
him  so  cruelly,  as  we  have.  After  such  devotion,  to 
enlist  is  the  least  that  Scotty  and  I  as  white  men 
could  do,  we  felt." 

"Maybe  so,  boy;  maybe  so!"  muttered  the 
Colonel,  smoking.  "  But  this  is  no  lark !  —  it's  the 
sternest  kind  of  business.  You  boys  are  young  and 
strong,  and  far  beyond  your  age  in  development  and 
character  —  the  mountains  have  done  that  for  you. 
There  will  be  no  danger  for  the  doctor  and  me ;  I'll 
get  a  departmental  desk,  I  suppose,"  he  sighed 
wearily,  "as  I'm  too  old  for  active  service.  The 
doctor'll  have  the  base  hospital,  here ;  that's  why  he's 
a  colonel  in  the  medicos  —  they  have  to  enroll  the 
best  surgeons  in  the  country,  as  the  army  will  not 
have  near  enough  to  even  send  to  the  Front.  But 
you  two  —  do  you  realize  what  the  French  and  Eng- 

249 


THE  RING-NECKED  GRIZZLY 

lish  boys  have  gone  through  with  ?  Gad  —  I  shiver 
to  think  of  it!  " 

"  Aweel,"  broke  in  the  doctor,  who  had  been  smok- 
ing silently,  "  this  country  tookit  me  in,  like  a  big 
mither ;  she  befriended  me,  and  gave  me  success  and 
prosperity,  like  ane  of  her  own  bairns.  If  she  needs 
my  son  —  Til  no  say  no/'  he  ended  gruffly. 

"  And  the  Army'd  look  queer  without  a  Colvin  in 
it,  over  there.  There  never  has  been  a  war  without 
a  Colvin  since  '76,"  said  the  old  Colonel,  speaking 
slowly  and  deliberately,  half  to  himself.  "  Is  this  a 
time  to  hold  back  ?  And,  for  a  little  more  schooling 
• —  how  much  is  schooling  worth,  in  Belgium,  now? 
Sidney,  son,"  the  Colonel  rose  to.his  feet,  "  you  have 
my  permission !  Go  —  and  God  be  good  to  you !  " 

He  wrung  the  boy's  hand,  and  the  party  separated 
for  the  night  solemnly,  for  it  was  a  decision  that 
wrung  the  hearts  of  their  parents  more  than  the  boys 
ever  dreamed. 

So  Sid  and  Scotty,  armed  with  letters  to  the 
Colonel's  old  friend,  Colonel  Jenkins  of  the  Fighting 
Ninth,  enlisted  in  the  Regulars  the  following  week  — 
but  that  is  another  story ! 

THE  END 


YB  33438 


M535385 


